The First Story
by aspentree11
Summary: "I have given you your freedom, Selene, but mark my words - if you betray me, I will kill every man it takes to bring you back." We know the story of Rhysand but what about his mother? What about his father? What about when they were young? What if there was more to them than what meets the eye?
1. Chapter 1

She had to get back before dinner. She _had_ to. Her eyes went to the horizon, watching as the sun was nearly close to leaving. She hurried anxiously, carrying the basket of berries and hoping, praying to the cauldron, that she would not run into anyone. For some odd reason, she woke up with a _feeling_. She couldn't quite figure out what the feeling was – terror? Anxiety? Paranoia? _It's just because of your period_ , she had told herself. But she had an inkling that deep down, that her period wasn't the reason. There was something else buried inside her, warning her. She had tried staying in the cottage and begged one of her sisters, Aemilia, to do her outdoorsy chores but of course, Aemilia was no help. So instead of making a fuss, she took the basket and went out into the forest to fulfill her ridiculous duties and hoped that she would make it back before sundown.

The feeling had almost gone away when she reached the core of her village. People were out and about – selling merchandise, talking around bon fires. She ducked her head nervously as village leaders passed by. Her eyes looked at the ground as they strolled past, rambling about something unimportant. The village leaders were far from protective, they were cruel. It only took one second of eye contact for them to find a reason to kill her. Thankfully, the village leaders relatively liked her family. Her dad was the best and most popular blacksmith in the village, and had gotten her out of trouble numerous times. But she had her own secrets to hide.

"Selene." She froze. She was almost to her cottage when the voice, that terrifying voice, interrupted her. _Oh Cauldron. No._

But she turned around with the best smile she could muster and looked at the young man behind her, "Oh, hello, Hunter." He stopped in front of her, flashing her a cocky smile. He was far from beautiful, as he was incredible skinny and had disgustingly oily hair. His eyes were small and beady and yet, he was highly convinced that he was the best man in the village.

When he walked closer to her, she winced at his filthy breath.

"How are you today, Selene?" His eyes didn't find hers, though. Instead, his eyes scanned her body generously, looking at everything from her curves to her bright mouth. She wasn't ignorant enough to believe that she wasn't beautiful – she knew she was gorgeous. Her white-blonde hair attractive most men's eyes, while most girls in the village had dusty brown hair. Her eyes, a bright blue, were unusual in her area. And while she was used to telling off boys to stop looking at her, she couldn't say a word against Hunter.

"Good," she said shortly, uninterested. "And you?" His face crinkled when he smiled.

"Better that you're here," he said, and his eyes flickered around her shoulder. "Ah, you still have those wings, don't you?" She took a cautious step back, forcing a protective smile.

"Oh, yes, those," she said tightly. "How is your father doing?" His face shifted and he rolled his eyes.

"Being chief leader of course. Did you know the High Lord of the Night Court was coming at dawn? He's probably going to award my father with gold for his accomplishments. As if he needs any more." _While the rest of us starve._

"Well, isn't that great! Well, I'm sorry, Hunter. But I have to go." She took a sharp turn away from him and tried taking a large stride towards her cottage but then his calloused, dirt-tinted hands pulled her by the shoulder. She sucked in a breath and swerved towards him. She scrunched her body together as if to protect her valuable wings.

"Yes?" She said, but this time coolly. His eyes flashed at her with a hint of impatience, but his smile remained.

"Where are you going?" He said, almost tauntingly. "I'm the future leader of this village, you know. Why leave so soon? Stay and have fun at the bonfire with us." She looked at the large fire where all the men, men who had spent their entire day training, had stayed. She would've had some respect for them if they didn't have the belief that they were gods. Most of them were foot soldiers and wouldn't make it anywhere but bottom rank, but they still held a sense of unearned glory that angered her.

"I have to get back to my father. He-"

"Oh, yes, your father," Hunter said, snarling now. "Did he ever reply to my offer by the way?" She couldn't help but scuff.

"Your offer?" She asked. His lips pursed, but there was a hint of amusement on his face.

"I offered him a proposal," he said. Her eyes squinted at him coolly.

"A proposal? Of _marriage_?"

"Well, yes, of course. You're the most beautiful girl in the village and I, as you know, will be the leader of this village once my father passes." _Which will probably be soon as you'll probably be the one to kill him._ "And I need a wife."

"I haven't bled yet." It was a lie, of course. This was her second month she had bled and nobody, not even her mother, knew about it. It was too dangerous to risk, as most girls had their wings taken off as soon as she had her first bleeding. Thankfully, she had a plan to leave the village soon enough. All she had to do was bid her time until she could get the gold and then disappear forever.

"But you will soon, yes?" She shivered as he put his firm hand on her thin hips. She pursed her lips angrily.

"In all due respect, I can't control when and when not my body decides to turn into a woman," she said back, her voice sharper. "Now, if you don't mind-"

"Oh, I certainly mind." The hand on her hip tightened, pulling her closer with a yank. She grunted.

"You're hurting me!" She objected, her voice loud. But he leaned close to her, his eyes empty of emotion. Cold, cold like he had never felt anything at all.

"I'm still talking to you," he growled. Without even thinking about it, before it even registered in her mind, she pulled the basket of berries and swung it at his head. It collided with him and despite it not being heavy enough to cause any real damage, he staggered back. She took a step back as well, heaving as she digested the horror in front of her. _Did she really just do that? Did she really just through a basket at the chief's son's head?_ As Hunter gripped his forehead, she swerved around and took two long strides before two hands caught her.

"Let go of me!" She shouted, yelling at the two unfamiliar men as they dragged her back to face Hunter. Rubbing his forehead, Hunter strutted towards her angrily, his teeth barred.

"How dare you, you peasant bitch!" His hand went towards her as she squirmed and ripped the worn dress. It only took one grip to rip it down the middle. She sucked in her breath.

"It was an accident," she said, her voice firm. "Let me go-" But then Hunter ripped off her dress fully, scratching her as she did so. The people around her began to stop and stare. Some snickered as they watched

"How dare you touch me!" He roared. Behind them, Selene noticed how Hunter's father glanced towards them. His eyes weren't cold like Hunter's, but yet held a type of anger that she had never felt. A heartless anger. Her eyes found his, not pleadingly but pointedly. He looked away immediately, not a single care in his eyes as he left his tent.

"It was a misunderstanding, Hunter," she said, her voice nicer now. "I've had a long day. I _apologize_. Now, let me go." But then his hands grabbed her with his dirty nails, pulling her away from the beefy hands holding onto her shoulders. She screeched as he pulled her close. His eyes scanned her more disgustingly now, mostly at her panties. She watched as he unbuckled his own belt. Heat, a warningly heat, went through her body as she now understood the consequences. She should have foresaw this – she should've just walked away.

"Hunter," she said slowly, trying to hide the fear in her voice, "My father is the blacksmith. Would you really-do you really want to humiliate him this way?" But Hunter didn't care. Her heart beating fast and her breathing now suffocating her as she couldn't calm down, tried ripping away from Hunter but the two men behind her were blocking her from moving.

"No-" He reached for her. She squirmed.

"My father will-" And then he took her panties off and he laughed. He looked at the underwear, now smeared with blood. She inhaled raggedly, all the hope in her body vanishing. She felt empty, weightless. He was going to take everything, she thought. Not just her virginity, she could live with being ostracized as she was planning to leave anyways, but she couldn't live without her wings.

"This is perfect," he said, his voice filled with playful cruelty. She felt the tears fill her eyes. She hadn't cried in years.

"I didn't know-"

"You didn't know that you had bled?" He finished. A tear was falling down her cheek.

"No," she lied, her voice tight, "I didn't." But then his eyes glittered at her, jumping in amusement. Without even turning his attention to one of his men, he spoke.

"Go tie her to the wooden post. Take off her wings," he demanded. Without a hesitation, she screamed. At the top of her lungs, her screams rang the core of the village. She kicked and hit the men that were holding her as they carried her thin body to the post. Behind her, somewhere, from behind the tents on the other side, she heard a man, whose voice was dry and irritable, speak. For some reason, she heard it over the others. It was strong, unique.

"And yet you claim that your villagers aren't savages, Peleg." She didn't know whose voice it was, nor cares, but it rang over the others.

"They-they aren't, my lord." A second man – Petyr, replied. "My villagers are the best men in Prythian."

"Are you claiming your men are superior over me?" Selene stopped paying attention to the voice as soon as she saw Hunter pull out his sword. Her chest rose up and down rapidly. A crowd had begun to form around them, watching like it was a play.

"Please," she said, tears falling down her face fast. "We're friends, Hunter. Remember? We played together as children." But Hunter was too amused to hear her words.

"You're nothing but a dirty whore," Hunter spat. She tried making her words, her pleading words, leave her lips. But then she felt her chin rise, anger filling her body again. _A whore? Simply because she was repulsed by his proposal?_

"I'd rather be a whore than be with you," she said, spitting at him square in the face. His gasped as he wiped his face hurriedly, and she noticed how embarrassment filled his cheeks. Despite the situation, she felt a hint of victory.

"You'll pay for that," he said, his lips curled angrily. But then a voice rang in her ears again – the deep, husky voice that interrupted the rest.

"What do you expect out of me? Gold? Not that I'm not grateful that your men supply my real warriors as target practice, but you are just lucky that I have the compassion to even stand in your filthy village," the voice said, making Hunter pause. "And where is this brave son of yours, Pimberton? I was under the impression that he cared to be your successor?"

"Oh, he's right over-"

"Let's get this over with fast," Hunter snarled. He rose his sword in the air as his men angled her body towards him. Her wings, which she thought for so many years would be protected, were now in the open. He was going to rip them off, cripple her.

"NO!" She screamed, just as the sword went down. She watched as the sword wooshed down, and she cried as he thrashed it at her, but just as the sword met her wings, red filled her vision. The bounds holding her to the post snapped. She shifted away, shielding her eyes as she felt her body soak in liquid. Slowly, shaking, she uncovered her eyes and looked in front of her. Her mouth gaped.

All she saw was red. She looked up, noticing the red rain still pouring down on her, covering her body from head to toe. She rose her fingers, smearing the substance from her cheek and then putting it to her nose directly. She winced as she inhaled. _Blood._

Hunter and his gang were no longer in front of her and it took her about three seconds, as she noticed the torn clothes on the ground, to realize that the blood that soaked her – the blood that covered her body so much that she couldn't see her own skin, was theirs. They had exploded. Turned into bloody rain. But _how_?

And then she heard the scream. She looked up, seeing Petyr only about twenty feet from her. His hand was to his lips but then her eyes shifted to the figure beside him. He was tall – taller than any man she had ever met. His skin was tan like a high ranked Illyarian and his dark brown hair tickled his brow swiftly. His eyes, the color of choal but yet still beautiful, stared at her. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes connected with hers, and she knew by the gleam in his eyes that he had saved her. She had to admit, though she wasn't usually swayed by beauty, he was attractive. And his clothes, as if his natural looks didn't reveal his identity already, were made of fine, pure-black material that made her gape. She knew who he was.

This wasn't the first time she had ever seen him. She had seen him once before, when she was just a child and he was probably her age. He looked no different, either because he was just as powerful as he was years before or because he was immortal.

"Why, Percival, you know this is no way to treat a lady," he purred at Petyr, smirking. She blinked, his words waking her up from the nightmare. Petyr shuddered, stumbling backwards and putting his hands in the air cowardly.

"I knew nothing of this, my lord," Petyr lied, his voice shaking, "Please, don't-" But then the High Lord of the Night Court started towards her. He walked with a swagger and a strut that even Hunter couldn't pull off. She shrunk back against the post, now very aware how close to death she truly was. For the first time in years, she wished that she was ordinary.

The High Lord stopped only about half of a foot away from her, bending his knees a little bit just to be at level with her. There was a genuine smile on his face – too genuine. So genuine that it almost looked predatory. His dark eyes twinkled at her and she could see a layer of greed that reflected back at her.

"And what's your name, beautiful?" He said softly, his voice caressing as if a lover. A slight shiver ran down her spine but thankfully when she responded her fear didn't show.

"Selene." His eyes danced around her face, as if trying to absorb her. Unlike the rest of the men here, he didn't look at her sexually. But as if she was something interesting, maybe even humorous. She swallowed.

" _Selene_ ," he repeated, his voice gentle, "And what do you do here, Selene?" Her fingers were shaking.

"I-I am the daughter of the village's black smith, my lord," her voice shook. He nodded understandably.

"And why, my dear Selene, did those wretched peasants tie you to a post?" _Peasants._ She almost laughed at the word. They weren't peasants to them – they were the leaders of the village, people who held local power. People who abused their power and slaughtered children for sport. But she guessed compared to him that they were nothing more than spit on the ground.

"My wings," she said quietly, practically a whisper, "they were going to cut off my wings because I'm a girl." Her eyes fell to the ground, sure at this point that he was mocking her. That he would take her wings just for the fun of it – just to amuse himself, and then murder her after. But then she heard him cluck his tongue disapprovingly.

"Now, that's not very fair is it, Selene?" He asked. She shook her head slowly.

"Please," she said, nearly begging, "I just want my wings. I don't do anything bad here, I'm just the blacksmith's daughter. Please don't-"

"Do you know who I am, Selene?"

"The High Lord of the Night Court," she choked, a drip of Hunter's blood falling into her mouth. His terrifying yet genuine smile lengthened, nodding.

"Exactly, I am the High Lord of the Night Court. Now, I agree with you, Selene. I think cutting off your wings would be rather barbaric, don't you think?"

"Yes."

"And so, do you also agree that I should burn down this entire damn village for their shameful acts?" The sentence was as cold as ice. It was clearly rhetorical as he looked back at Petyr. Petyr's entire face turned milky white. He opened his mouth quickly, but nothing came out. The High Lord of the Night Court had must've silenced him with his magic as Petyr gripped his throat anxiously, begging to speak.

"No," Selene said quickly, her eyes wide with horror and holding out her palm innocently, "Please, my family lives here. My father, my mother, my sisters. They didn't do anything wrong, there are many good people in this village! Please, spare me. Spare us." The High Lord looked back at her, his eyes filled with delight.

"Are you sure? It would only take half a thought-" His voice was so casual, so calm, that it made bile rise to her throat.

"Yes!" She argued, and then sucked in her breath as she noticed she interrupted him. "I'm sorry for interrupting, my lord. I just – I'm sure." He tilted his head, nodding.

"Very well. As you wish, my beautiful Selene. Now, there is a nasty amount of blood on you," he said, looking at her body now. She looked down, realizing how horrifically nude she was. And in front of the most powerful man in the land too, maybe even the world. Embarrassment filled her face as his eyes ran up and down her body. There wasn't much to see as blood nearly covered all of it, but his eyes were lingering at every detail that he could depict. She looked around her desperately, watching as every person in the village stared at her in terror.

"It's alright," she said, giving a nervous laugh. "It's just blood." His eyebrows furrowed down and he shook his head.

"No, it is not okay, beautiful. Let's get you a nice, warm bath and clean you up," he said. But when he heard the utter silence that followed his words, he turned around with a snarl and stared at Petyr with a look worse than death. "Didn't you hear me, Philander? This poor girl needs a bath. _Now_."

~*~ discidium ~*~

 **Please ignore the errors! I'll fix them later. Please please please review if you want more! That's the only way I know if I should right more or not! Again, sorry for the errors. Leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Hunter's blood was still dripping down her back. After the High Lord of the Night Court demanded Petyr to give her a bath, two of the local women volunteered to help scrub her off. As she was led into Petyr's home, where the only traditional bath lied in the entire village, they immediately brought out sponges and began scraping off the blood without a single complaint. Both of the women, whom she knew vaguely, refused to meet eyes with her. They murmured to each other as they continued to wash her off, but Selene's hands were still shaking. What was going on? Why had the High Lord taken such a key interest in her?  
"She's just…" One of them muttered as she scrubbed her waist, clearly irritable but nearly out of earshot. "Because of her…" The other woman, who was scrubbing her legs nodded.

"…murdered one of her own…all Petyr has done for them and yet…" The words kept getting shot back and forth until finally Selene yanked herself away and glowered at both of them. They reflected an angry snarl.

"Get back over here, girl!" One of them barked. "You're lucky that you're even alive." Her fingers, sore from the continuous shaking, curled into tight fists.

"What's going on?" She demanded. "Why did you bother volunteering if you are both so angry at me?" One of the women, who had lived a few cottages away from her, shot her a mirthless smirk.

"You don't even know," the woman said, shaking her head. "So naive." Selene's eyes narrowed on her.

"Do indulge," Selene said through her clenched teeth, her voice just as angry now. The woman got off her knees and stood up.

"He's your-" But then a knock on the door interrupted her. Both of the women's faces filled with horror and Serene subtly inched away closer to the back wall.

"Yes?" One of them said, her voice soft.

"What's taking you so long?" It was Petyr. "The High Lord is growing restless. Finish scrubbing her fast and then put her in the tub." Serene looked down at herself. Not all of the blood had been washed away – there was a spot on her belly and her hair was yet to be touched by the two women. But for the most part, the blood was gone.

"I guess this will have to do," the woman who had been speaking to her said grudgingly. At that moment, Serene didn't need instruction to get into the bath. Before the either for the woman could bark at her, she stepped into the room-temperature water awkwardly. She had never been in a bath, as her parents and every other family in the village didn't have enough money to have one. Instead, she was used to bathing in the river. But she sat down in it obediently as the women rushed out.

She stared around the bathroom – at Petyr's bathroom. Once, Hunter had been in here. Not that she was sentimental about his death, but she felt like an invader. A fraud. She eyed the large, jagged mirror in front of her, followed by two wooden chairs that faced the mirror. The mirror was standing on a dresser that was piled with hand-made brushes and bottles of liquids that she didn't recognize. Was Hunter right? Was she supposed to be his future wife and live in this cottage for the rest of her life? No, she never would have agreed. But, as her eyes lingered in the bathroom, she couldn't help but feel envious. It was a life that she never had the opportunity to dream of.

After a few minutes alone, she heard another knock at the door. She shifted in the bathtub awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Should she get up and open it? But she didn't see any towels around her and the ladies had taken her bloody clothes with them.

"Er…yes?" She asked awkwardly. The door opened with the creak. And there he was again – barging into her life. The High Lord looked around the room with disgust and then back at the bathtub. She looked down at herself, unsure of why he was staring at the bathtub so intensely until he sneered.

"Stupid cretins had one job," he growled and snapped his fingers. Within half a second, she felt a warmth hit around her. Warm water. He had warmed the water. While the warm water made her feel like she was dissolving into comfortable jello and she was tempted to let out a sound of relief, she refused to show any flicker of emotion. He closed the door slowly, locking it.

She was utterly still as he walked further into the bathroom. He spun one of the wooden chairs backwards and sat down with his chin propped onto the back of the seat silently. His eyes stared down at her like a hawk, as if searching for prey. What was he analyzing? She didn't know. She was too afraid to ask. She was just a girl. But he was silent as he looked at her, marveled.

"This doesn't make you feel uncomfortable?" He asked finally, his voice cut sharp. She swallowed.

"What do you mean?" She let out. The corner of his mouth twitched up as if he was suppressing a smile.

"Me watching you take a bath," he said. "I've been sitting here staring at you for five minutes. I was thinking you'd object by now." She shrugged, because truthfully she didn't mind. He was too far away to see anything intimate and the bath went up to her shoulders when she was sitting down. Not only that, but she wasn't lying when she told Hunter that she'd rather be a whore than lose her wings. If this is what she had to do for him, she would do it.

"You saved my wings," she replied, her voice hollow. "I don't care what you do." He tilted his head at her, reflecting a small smile. Not the predatory smile he had given her earlier – a true smile. It looked unnatural against his dark, twisted eyes.

"What about talk?" He suggested. She blinked at him, shock running through her so fast that she sat up like a lightning bolt. If anything, the words made her more anxious. This clearly wasn't what she predicted. Physical favors were straight forward, expectant, but this wasn't something she was prepared for.

"Talk? I thought-" He interrupted her with a laugh.

"If I wanted to have sex with you, I would have by now." Her eyes narrowed on him disapprovingly.

"See this face, High Lord?" She asked, her hand circling around her head impatiently. "It used to be nice and friendly. Now after that cocky comment, it's cold and mean." He snorted.

"Nice and friendly? You've been looking at me like I'm planning on roasting you and eating you for dinner," he told her. She was tempted to smile, maybe even laugh, until she realized who she was talking to and then became quiet again. She didn't know what to say to him, or even if she was allowed to speak. He was, compared to her, a god. She was merely an ant that was destined to be stepped on.

His smile dropped too, as if he could feel the sudden shift that went through her.

"Fine then," he said, defeated. "How about I ask the questions and you answer them? Is that easy enough?" She thought about it and then nodded slowly.

"Ask away, my lord," she told him. He smirked.

"Is this the first time I've met you?" He asked. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she sat farther up in the bathtub.

"No," she admitted, "I met you once. When you first became High Lord. I was eight. You were doing your tour to introduce yourself to all the villages." His eyes jumped from humored to nostalgic, as if he was trying to remember the memory of coming down here. But she waved her hand at him.

"Our village is nothing. Worthless," she agreed. "I don't expect you to remember." He didn't bother disagreeing with her. Not that she was surprised. It wasn't too long ago that he was threatening to burn the entire village to the ground. Her village was replaceable to say the least. But there was a shadow of resentment in his eyes, and yet she knew it wasn't towards her.

"Do you like it here?" He preceded. She knew what she was supposed to say. _Yes, I love it here._ It would have saved her people from destruction, maybe the High Lord would even present them with gifts if she boasted about the village.

"No," she said, remembering how the chief ignored her when she cried for mercy, "I hate the village. I was planning on leaving, actually." A spark filled his eyes. A victorious sparkle. Like he had just won a battle or conquered a nation. Like she was an entity that he would've fought to keep.

"Because of your wings?" Suddenly, she felt very conscious of her wings. She had released them when she got into the bathtub, just so that she could relish the feeling of them still attached to her. But when he brought them up, she regretted it. She nodded, heat filling her face.

"Because of my wings."

"And are you educated?" She hesitated for a moment. Why was her education important? While it wasn't uncommon, literacy wasn't valued in the village. And she knew that in many other villages, girls were the last people who were educated. It was even punishable by death in some.

"Yes, my father taught me," she said, almost defensively. "It's not against the rules here. Anybody can learn how to read in my village. There is no punishment." One of his eyebrows jerked upward.

"But that doesn't mean your people care," he argued roughly. "It doesn't mean your superiors give credit to those who do. I've seen villages like these – where brawns is the only characteristic that matters. That education is nearly pitied. They're wrong." She didn't know what to say. So instead she sat their silently, sinking into the warm water again. There was silence, strained silence.

"Are you scared?" Her eyes shot up towards him, holding his gaze intensely. She was scared of a lot of things, she admitted to herself. She was scared of her wings being ripped off, she was scared of her family punishing her for her actions, and she was scared that once the High Lord left that she would be tied to the post once again.

"Of you?" She said bravely, scuffing. "No. I am not scared of you. Like you said, if you wanted to hurt me, you would have by now." She was half expecting anger to flash across his face, saying she had just insulted him. But he almost seemed thrilled, amused that she didn't have any fear towards him. And then he was smiling at her again, a challenging smile.

"Don't you have any questions for me?" He asked, shaking his head humorously. "I keep asking you about yourself and you are yet to ask a single question about me. Don't you want to know something? Anything about your high lord?" _Why am I here? Why did you save me? Why do you care?_ But then she said the first thing that came to mind.

"What's your name?" There was silence for a moment. Almost immediately she felt a weight in her gut, as she realized that her question probably wasn't the best. He was looking for something simple, she had no right to go into his personal business. But then he cackled, laughing. His rings ran against the bathroom walls so powerfully that the bathroom began to shake. Her face flushed as she could only imagine what the villagers were thinking.

"I apologize if-"

"No. _No_ ," he said sharply, his laughs cutting off. "Don't ever apologize. It's humorous, really, that you don't even know my name." She shrugged pathetically.

"Nobody in my village has ever spoken your name." She wasn't going to apologize for her village's ignorance though, for their inability to learn. They didn't have the time nor the energy to learn about the rest of the world. They could barely feed themselves already.

"It's not unusual," he said, as if hearing her thoughts. "Most people outside of my court don't know my name. It has nothing to do with the quality of your village."

"Tobias. My name is Tobias." And as she looked up at him, analyzing him again, she could see it. Lord Tobias. It sounded powerful, maybe one day even legendary. She could see the name feared.

"It's nice to meet you, High Lord Tobias," she said, giving a friendly smile and handing out her hand. He leaned over and clamped it, shaking it stiffly with a smirk.

"Just Tobias to you," he corrected. When the words, too friendly to be safe, were finally let out, her smile died.

"Why are you here?" She blurted as she pulled her hand away hastily. There wasn't any hint of friendliness in her voice anymore. "You spared me because you felt like it, I get that. And you demanded a bath for me to be nice. But why are you here? Talking to me? Letting me call you by your first name?" He didn't even blink at her. But he looked at her longingly, like she was a doll that he was about to break. A sadness flickering in his eyes.

"If I told you I was going to say something that would change your life forever, would you want to know now?" He asked. Her eyebrows furrowed down.

"Of course," she said hurriedly, almost a bit snappily. "Of course I would want to know. Wouldn't you?" His eyes reflected an unreadable gleam. And then he brought his head off the back of his chair, shaking his head at her unbelievably. There was a ghost of smile on his lips, but it wasn't something to be admired.

"You're too young," he whispered, laughing under his breath as if to mock her. "You're barely of age." His words felt like a slap on the face. As the words settled in, his tone ringing in her head, anxiety rose in her. _Was this about her wings?_ She couldn't risk it, not now. Not when she had just witnessed a blade almost cut them off.

She bolted to her feet in the tub, dauntlessly naked in front of him with no care at all. While her body was there for him to look at, his gaze stayed on her face as she stepped out of the bathtub and grew close to him, her wings flapping behind her. He didn't even twitch.

"Tell me," she demanded, her lips curling. "Tell me what it is." His dark eyes turned cold.

"This is the second time you've nearly killed yourself whilst being naked, beautiful Selene. Do you really have the audacity to think that surviving the first time was anything but luck?" She closed her lips tightly, trying to erase the cold expression off her face, but when she began to step back into the tub Tobias took hold of her fingers and pulled her back. While his eyes were still cold, there seemed to be a hint of admiration.

"When I first saw you, Selene," he said slowly, pulling her even closer. She shivered when he said her name. "I thought I was dying. I thought I was on the battlefield and that I was trying to grasp for something, something in the deepest of my imagination, to keep me alive. That you were my shining angel to tell me to keep fighting." She opened her mouth but then nothing came out. He was looking at her desperately, trying to grasp something that he would never be able to get physically, something that he needed. Something that he couldn't live without.

"I know I'm pretty," she snapped, coolness running on her tongue, "That's all it is, my lord. You're entranced by my beauty. But I'm an average villager. I'm not your an-" But he got up so fast that she barely caught it. He knocked over the chair so roughly that it snapped in two and caressed her face in his hands. For a moment, she thought he was tearing up.

"You want me to say it, beautiful Selene?" He asked, his voice sharp again. "You want me to tell you the truth?" She couldn't even speak this time. The High Lord's hands were on her, the most powerful man she had ever met, and she didn't know if she should be afraid or flattered. His eyes though, his dark eyes, were spirited.

"You're my mate, beautiful Selene," He said, touching her forehead with his. "Say something, beautiful darling." She opened her mouth, letting out an unattractive choking sound and then flushed with redness.

"That-mates…they don't," she said, swallowing. "High Lord-"

"Tobias."

" _Tobias._ Tobias, mates don't exist," she said slowly, pulling her head away. His hands dropped back to her fingers, intertwining her fingers with his tightly. She flashed him a sympathetic smile. "That's a fable. That bond doesn't really exist. It's something parents tell little girls to humor them. It's not a real thing." His lips, which were slightly parted, turned into a tight line. Blame, anger, filled his face. A part of her kept screaming at her to run, yell, hide away, but she couldn't leave him.

"Is that what your baffling chief told you?" He asked, one eyebrow perked up. She sighed.

"Have you ever met someone else who has found their mate? No, exa-"

"Yes," he said, blinking rapidly. "Many, actually. Half of my council has a mate. The stronger the fae, the more likely they are to find one." She wanted to refute but when she looked at him, at the strongest fae she had ever met, how could she argue? Nobody in her village was as powerful as him. Nobody had options here.

"Let me take you to my home," he said, his voice soft as his lips reached her ear. "Let me prove it to you." Her gaze clung to his, trying to find the lie. Surely he knew that even if the mate bond was a real thing, that she, a mere peasant, couldn't be his equal. Not ever.

"It's either stay here and accept the wrath that your pathetic, medieval village will give to you after this charade," he said, his voice silky, "or come with me. And we can find out the truth together."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She didn't wave goodbye to her family when Tobias escorted her out. She felt him linger close to her, watching the villagers' faces as they walked away together. Behind them, there were three or four guards with their daggers already out, as if her village would ever fight to keep her. Not even her parents objected as she walked past them.

"They'll get rewarded for keeping you for the last eighteen years," she heard Tobias tell her, only for her ears to hear. She glanced up at him, finding that his eyes were just as angry as hers despite the generous comment.

"Don't bother," she told him. "The only people I care about here are the children. The girls, especially. If you want to be merciful, reward _them_. Not my family." And he nodded at her curtly, his eyes searching from where her pain truly began. But he would never find it.

She didn't turn around as she walked farther and farther away from the village. Instead, she kept her eyes at a distant place – the nearest village which was miles away. Tobias, though, seemed rather content with the walk. He was silent, chillingly silent. Not even his guards spoke to each other throughout their journey, with their eyes centered on her every moment. Every time she skipped a step their entire bodies would shift towards her, like she was more important than the High Lord himself. The High Lord, alike to them, glanced at her often, but not like he was tempted to make a conversation. He was analyzing her, analyzing every movement she made. Her body language, her reactions. It wasn't until she could smell the smoke did he finally speak.

"There will be a high priestess in the village," he told her, his voice absent of any sort of emotion. "She will secure our bond." The entrance to the village was in sight now, people hovering around the entrance frantically. She took a ragged breath, feeling the shakiness in her body once again. Fear began to stir in her and she felt her stomach churn.

"Our bond? Marriage bond?" She managed to let out, only when they became close to the entrance of the village. He nodded sharply.

"Yes. This is the closest village that is truly within the Court of Night's territory. In my terrain, under my rule. Your village is still technically my land, but I let your village, along with many others, lead themselves as they are too far away for me to keep track of regularly. But this one, this village, follows my rules exactly so it will be fully recognized by other courts. Does that make sense?" He asked. She nodded slowly.

"So," she said, tucking a white-blonde hair behind her ear, "this will be legitimized? If this bond is real, I will be your wife before the night's end?" To her surprise, a smile appeared on his face, warming his naturally cold expression.

"Yes," he said, only about ten feet away from the entrance. She took a deep breath, trying to release all the nerves inside her, but it was useless. She was absolutely terrified of what was going to happen, what the high lord would end up doing to her when he realized that it was a huge mistake. But he, for the first time since the long walk, wrapped his arm around hers. She looked up, realizing how intimate it must be for him to even touch her in public since he was so cold naturally. He looked at her with a reassuring gleam in his eyes.

"You will be a great high lady," he told her, as if that was the biggest worry in her mind. But she nodded, pretending that that was her worry. He began walking to the entrance and to her greatest surprise, people fell to their knees. Even the guards fell down to the ground, bowing. There was a smug look on the High Lord's face as he walked into the village, watching as people stopped what they were doing and fell to the ground.

"They're bowing," Selene whispered aloud. He gave her a cocky grin.

"Yes, some villages know how to respect their high lord," he said passive aggressively. She rolled her eyes. And as she watched as people bowed, they didn't even flicker when she walked past. It was like they weren't even surprised.

"Did you warn them?" She asked him, her voice a whisper as she leaned next to him. He shook his head.

"Of course not. Why would I waste my time sending a rider when I needed to get here as soon as possible? Unlike you, they don't doubt me. They know who you are," he said back. She felt her cheeks flush.

"I don't doubt you," she said, "It's just…everyone makes mistakes." He huffed at that, giving her a mocking smile now.

"Not me," he told her, and she knew he wasn't joking. Clearly, his arrogance was a part of his personality. "I am never wrong, my beautiful Selene." He didn't stop until he hit the biggest hut of all. There was silence, utter silence. And at that moment she knew it was her turn to speak.

"Promise me one thing," she said, desperation leaking in her voice. He glanced at the hut warily and then back at her.

"Okay," he agreed, far easier than she had expected.

"When she tells you that I'm not your mate, that I was right, don't just leave me back in my village. Help me," she said, her eyes falling to the ground. "Leave me here if you have to, but they'll kill me in my village if I go back." She expected him to argue, for anger to fill his face, but his face was unreadable.

"If I promise and consider the possibility, will you consider the possibility that you are wrong?" He replied, his voice just as desperate as hers.

"A deal is a deal," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. He opened his mouth but just as he was about to speak, the curtains that closed the entry way to the hut opened with a swish. And she knew, without a doubt, that the figure was the high priestess.

The high priestess was extremely beautiful. Her facial features, dark but extraordinary, made Selene breathless. Her long hair was braided and she looked like she was from a different area – maybe the court of summer? Selene had obviously never been there but she has heard the stories of what they look like. Her skin was so dark that it was evident that the high priestess was a different race, a different race that Selene has never seen. The high priestess' eyes narrowed on Selene.

"She is taller than I had dreamed. Younger," the high priestess said, her voice leaking with disapproval. Selene reflected the same look, but didn't dare speak. She looked up at the high lord and she was surprised to see that he actually found it funny.

"Yvonne, meet Selene," he said, motioning to her happily. Yvonne rolled her eyes and then opened the curtain wider.

"As if I haven't seen her before," Yvonne scuffed, looking at her. But then she smiled at her, a wicked smile. "Welcome to the court of dreams, girl." A growl escaped Tobias's mouth.

"She is your high lady," he said, following Yvonne into the hut and pulling Selene with him.

"Not yet," Yvonne said dauntlessly, leading them in. Selene coughed as she walked into the hut – she was hit with the smell of many herbs at once. She was used to the smell of herbs, as she had used them to delay her period for years. But these were stronger, more powerful. She walked with Tobias willingly to a rich, golden altar. She stopped beside him, facing the high priestess.

"She doesn't believe you, I can feel it," Yvonne said, her voice leaking with disgust. Tobias's mouth pressed into a tight line.

"She's young, like you said," Tobias countered, his voice surprisingly protective. "You don't know what-"

"Oh, I do." Selene tried not to gape when the high priestess interrupted him. Tobias didn't look irritated in the least, and she could feel how much respect he truly had for his high priestess. Selene turned away quickly, feeling the high priestess' stare. She was testing her in her own odd way, as if waiting for her to lash out. But Selene didn't even move.

"I'm assuming you want me to prove it to her first, my lord?" Yvonne asked. He nodded curtly.

"She's feisty," he told her, as if Selene wasn't right next to him, "I think she'd be a bit mad if I married her without her approval first." Dry humor. She didn't have the right to be furious, if anything. Mate or not, he could demand her to do it and grudgingly, she would have to without a single complaint.

"Give me your hands then," Yvonne demanded. Selene shyly gave out her hand and Yvonne, with an annoyed sigh, yanked it closer between the two. Tobias let out his own and Selene was surprised to see that she hadn't noticed the tattoos that were painted on his skin. It was an interesting design – ancient swirls and symbols she couldn't read ran up from his palm to his elbow. She forced her gaze to Yvonne, whose eyes were flashing between the two of them.

"Ready?" She asked, to Selene specifically. Taking a deep breath, Selene nodded. Yvonne then grabbed her hand again, laying it on top of Tobias's. His hands were rough.

"Destiny awaits you," Yvonne said, before muttering a long string of words in a language that Selene didn't recongize. There was a moment of stillness, of anxiety, but then she was no longer in the hut. She was in a bedroom, painted blue with a bed larger than her own room. A boy, young, sat on it restlessly, arguing with his father. And then a flash occurred, she was watching a teenager. He was fighting in an underground ring, his eyes filled with such undying anger that she was worried it would consume him. And then she saw a young man, probably not too much older, holding his dead father, soaked in dark red blood. There were tears in his eyes. And then she saw a girl, bound to the post like a slaughtered animal, crying for someone to save her. Begging, screaming so loud that the birds fled from the trees in fear, for someone to spare her, even if it meant ending her life.

And then she was in the room again, panting. Shaking. She looked down, suddenly realizing that she was on the floor, gripping her legs so tightly that blood was spilling. Her eyes, slowly, rose.

The High Lord was looking down at her, shaking as well. There was an anger in his eyes – an unforgivable anger. A ruthless anger. A murderous anger. His head whipped towards Yvonne.

"I'll kill them," he seethed, "for what they did to her. I'll murder them with each and every-" But then Yvonne put her hand on him.

"This, taking her away from them, making _her_ your destiny, is the worst thing that you could've done for them," Yvonne said, her voice surprisingly calming. "They will live in fear for the rest of their lives." The High Lord's shaking went down and Selene felt herself getting on her feet. It occurred to her, as she saw the lively fire in his eyes, that he must've seen her life as well. They were, truly, connected. She opened her mouth, about to say the words she thought she would never admit, until he spoke before her.

"You're too young," he said, his voice filled with pain. "I can't take your innocence from you, my beautiful Selene. I can't take you to my court, not yet." Selene stepped towards him, protesting.

"I believe you," she said, swallowing her pride. "I believe you, Tobias-"

"You're barely of age," he said over her words, a light growl proceeding it. "Before I put you on a throne, I need to know that I won't ruin you. That you are strong enough-"

"She is strong enough," Yvonne interrupted, her sharp voice silencing him. "She almost died for her wings. She abandoned the only home she has ever had in the possibility of a new life. She is not a child. She has a very old soul, my lord. A soul that is needed if you want a strong rule." Tobias's eyes lingered on Yvonne for just a moment before finding Selene's gaze. There were so many questions on his face, so many vulnerabilities. Selene turned towards Yvonne, her body straightening as she did so.

"Marry us," she demanded. Yvonne smiled at her.

"Very well, my lady."

~*~ discidium ~*~

 **I apologize greatly for the errors (theres probably a lot). But please, please PLEASE review. Even if it's two words. It's a great motivator and I won't know if I should write more if people don't tell me to.**


	3. Chapter 3

_"Get away from her!" Her voice ceased him. It only took one sentence, one voice, for the boy to whip around. The moon was gone that night, hidden behind the clouds that whispered the dangers. She should have known to hide when she couldn't see the stars – it was a sign, Yvonne would have told her. But she kept moving, because who in the world would have known that she and Priscilla were traveling? Tobias wanted her to take guards and while she refused, she assumed that he would have sent them anyways. Miles behind, yes, but still there to watch her at a distance. Clearly, both of them had made mistakes._

 _The figure in front of her was young – too young for her to be foolish enough to believe that he was the only one behind this. But when the candles flickered and revealed his face in the small tent, she fumed at the gods. Of course, she had known him. She knew his father too. And cauldron knows what Tobias would do in revenge if this story ever met his ears._

 _"This is nothing personal," the boy told her, but the crack at the end of his sentence made her roll her eyes. She turned her head to glance at Priscilla for a slight moment and silent relief filled her body. She was, as Selene wanted her to be, sitting upright in her cot, waiting for Selene's instructions. There was no blood, her sleeping gown hadn't been touched. Priscilla knew how to fight but Selene, even if Priscilla believed she was invincible, knew neither of them had a chance against the son of spring._

 _"You're here to kill us, boy?" And when she noticed how the boy's knife was shaking in his hand, her eyes lit up. A new fear started through her, a greater one._

 _"You came here to kill Rhysand," she whispered._

 _"Rhysand? You came here to kill Rhysand?!" Priscilla yelled, her white-blonde hair whipping around her face as she jumped to her feet. Selene put her hand up, silencing her quickly. Her eyes held onto the young boy's, praying to the cauldron that he didn't look away._

 _"He's not here," Selene said, her voice calm as she clipped each word slowly. "He was supposed to meet us but for whatever reason he didn't." And with those words, the boy began panting. He looked between Selene and Priscilla frantically, calculating his options. His face was dead white._

 _"You don't have to hurt us," Selene told him as softly as she could. "We're just two women traveling. No one has to even know you were-"_

 _"My father will know. I already told him I-you don't understand, he already knows where I am," he said, choking on his words. Selene shook her head, her face filled with sympathy but her eyes, her body, filled with disgust._

 _"Tell him we got away," she offered, her voice fiercer now. "Tell him you drowned us in the river but wasn't able to collect the bodies." Behind the boy, Priscilla made a sound of protest. But Selene didn't even wince. The boy's breaths seemed to calm down. His eyes though, his bright eyes, were filled with emotions._

 _"But you don't understand! I have to bring back something, some sort of proof," The boy said, nearly begging. Selene let out a breath of annoyance and took out the dagger that she had strapped to her side for safe keeping. She pointedly put the dagger against her palm._

 _"Mother, let me-" She sliced her hand open. The boy inhaled raggedly as he watched her gather the blood in her hands and then handed it to him._

 _"Take my blood, smother it all over you," she instructed, the horror of her children dead blaring in her mind vividly. "Make it seem like you killed me." The boy reluctantly took the spilled blood and wiped down his arms. Priscilla's nose flared as she watched the boy desperately layer himself in her mother's blood._

 _"There you go," she coaxed, her own panic waning. "You're going to be okay." And when the boy looked back up at her, she saw the tears in his eyes._

 _"Thank you," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "And I'm sorry. For coming here-"_

 _"Don't apologize," Selene snapped, and this time her voice was far from warm. "I don't want your apologies." The boy's eyes narrowed on her and his hands, still holding her blood, dropped to his sides._

 _"You don't understand. You don't know what it's like, having to be a son of-"_

 _"And I am the wife of a high lord!" Her voice rose, pointing her dagger at him daringly. "Now, I told you to get out!" But then the boy shook his head, taking a lethal step towards her. Selene didn't even twitch._

 _"You dare point a dagger at me?"_

 _"I will point a dagger at anyone who threatens my family's safety."_

 _"Your family?!" The boy said, tears falling down his face as he laughed madly. Even under the candle light, she could see how his body was shaking. "Yes, I agree, I will not hurt you, woman. But let's not forget that some of your family is guilty of more than one sin. I am sparing you." Selene bared her teeth at the boy._

 _"And as you do so, realize that your father is just as guilty as my husband by all means, don't let him fool you. Ruling is all but a game," Selene warned. The boy's mouth parted in disgust, clearly insulted as he tipped back on his heels._

 _"You're lucky that my father hasn't declared war on your husband's court for being such uncultured, heartless-"But then she heard a grunt, a sharp breath of fury. Priscilla whipped into the boy's vision, nose to nose with the boy._

 _"Piece of filth," Priscilla said bravely, spitting at the boy's feet. Selene tried grabbing her but Priscilla spun from her grip. "How dare you threaten the House of Night! When my brother hears about this, him and his army will hunt down you and your weak brothers one by one and then my father with vanquish your pathetic-"_

 _"Be silent, Priscilla!"_

 _"-excuse of a court once and for all!"_

 _"PRISCILLA!" Selene barked, but Priscilla had a blaze in her eyes. A powerful, undying blaze that even Selene couldn't control. A part of her didn't want to, a part of her believed that Priscilla adopted that from her, but the boy was fragile. Broken. Unreasonable._

 _"Get away from me, little girl."_

 _"Make me, flower boy." And then she saw it. The boy whipped out his blade, the metal shining under the burning candles._

"NO!" Selene bolted right up in her bed. There was sweat pealing down her body like someone had dumped a pail of water on top of her. She blinked a few times, taking ragged breaths, until her blurry version began sharp and she clung to the sheets even more terrified.

When she had walked into the mansion hours prior, she thought it was a figment of her imagination. Everything that she thought was possible had been proved wrong. While Petyr's home was a wonderland, Tobias's home was something between heaven and hell. It was the prettiest, most amazing place on the planet, but it was too pretty. Scarily pretty. Like it was an illusion. A trap. Because things couldn't be this good – there had to be an exception, a downside.

It wasn't as painful to look at the second time, though. She decided, as she glanced around her heavenly room, that if this was the last thing she saw then she was okay with it. It was larger than her own hut by far – just like Hunter's family, she had a full red-oak dresser piled with various perfumes and bottles. She also had an entire collection of brushes. Her room was a rich color of purple and she had a fireplace in the corner. It was fairly bare, but she was far too terrified to explore more. There were two more doors on the side, one that was clearly a closet and another that she would guess was a bathroom.

As her heart rate raced in her ears, she glanced towards her bedroom door. It was wide open, like the door itself was beckoning her to leave. She took an even, deep breath. And then she remembered something – the scream. Someone had screamed. The scream had woken her up from her nightmare.

She got out of bed quickly, readjusting the nightgown around her and then began to walk out of the bedroom cautiously. Once she was out of her room, she could hear the voices more vividly.

"-Now, I'm giving you one more chance," the silky voice was so smooth, so cruel, that it made her cringe. She turned the corner and then she froze. As she lingered about fifteen feet away, Tobias swung around and met eyes with her. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it as her eyes bounced from him to the figure he had been speaking to. He was far more casual with her now, with only trousers on and showing his bare chest. His hair was ruffled and he looked like he had just awoken.

"You look awful," he deducted as his hawk-like eyes went down on her. "What the hell happened? I thought you were asleep." But her eyes turned to the second figure who was behind his shoulder and leaning against the door frame casually.

"I had a nightm…" But she couldn't finish her sentence. The other figure horrified her too much to speak.

She was prettier than any woman she had ever seen. And, to be honest, the woman looked like she belonged in the house far more than Selene did. Her hair was the color of fire, a dark but rich red that probably caught every man's attention. Her body was curvy and she stood with a grace that Selene would never master. Hurriedly, Selene turned away. The redheaded woman was wearing lingerie that probably costed just as much as Tobias's clothing, and far too revealing for her to look at without turning red. Clearly though, the girl didn't care about Selene's presence. If anything, she looked at her like she wasn't even there.

"Hiding a playmate?" The woman giggled. Selene felt her face burn. She wasn't surprised that Tobias had a lover, as most married men of power in her village did, but she never imagined actually having to witness her first-hand. It was uncomfortable, too vivid. She could sense Tobias's anger several feet away.

"Did Gilly even _try_ kicking you out?" He replied tightly. Selene glanced at the both of them quickly, holding her breath. The girl rolled her eyes playfully at the High Lord of Night as she stepped towards him. Tobias didn't even twitch when she put her hands on his chest, rubbing him like a lover.

"My lord-" And then she heard a slapping noise before she even registered it. Selene jumped back, watching as Tobias's hand collided with the girls cheek. The woman sucked in her breath sharply and Selene's body went rigid.

When the woman turned towards him again, shock filled her face.

"Did I do something to insult you, my lord?" She asked, and Selene could hear the tenseness in the woman's voice. But Tobias didn't even hesitate when he responded.

"I told you, very nicely, to leave," he said coldly. "And yet I still see your face. Am I not straight forward enough? Or are you really that incompetent?" Selene almost laughed. It was fairly ironic that his lover couldn't follow his orders, as her entire duty to him was to do simply that. But she didn't. Because the fear that the girl in front of her tried to suppress was too real to laugh at.

"My lord, we have been through this many times. I am comfortable with you bringing other women in this house. I do not discriminate against-"

"Rosalie, this is my wife, Selene. _Your lady_ ," Tobias said through his clenched teeth. Selene opened her mouth but then choked as the girls green eyes, sharp as a tiger, shot towards her. Oddly enough, surprise didn't flicker in Rosalie's eyes. Selene, unsure what to do, waved at her uncomfortably.

"Hello, my name is Selene," she said, forcing a tilted smile. Tobias pretended she hadn't said a word and turned back towards Rosalie.

"In respect of our previous relations, I will spare you if you walk out right now, just because I'm feeling good today."

"Previous relations?" Rosalie laughed at the word, but Selene could see the tears in her eyes. "We-"

" _Do you want to live_?" Rosalie opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. She, though it must have too effort, met eyes with Selene without a glimmer of resentment. Carefully, and slowly, she curtsied.

"My apologies, my lady," she said, clearing her throat. "It has been an honor to meet you. I-" But then she turned towards Tobias daringly, looking at him squarely without a hint of fear. "It has been an honor to serve you." And with those words, under Tobias's gaze, she rushed down the stairs, sniffling.

Selene didn't breathe for a second. She was too busy hearing the poor girl run out the door, not even bothering to grab a coat. She blinked stupidly for a moment, turning her gaze at Tobias. He hadn't moved an inch, but she could still feel his eyes on her, analyzing her. Waiting for her response. And even half naked, with his hair ruffled and one side of his face rosy because he had slept on it awkwardly, he still looked unbearably powerful. So powerful that she wasn't even a bit surprised that the girl had run out, despite whatever _relations_ they had.

"You missed breakfast," he blurted, and she was unsure if he only said it to break the silence or if that was really the first thing he could think of.

"You just," she said, blinking at him rapidly, "you just threw out a naked girl-"

"She had clothes on."

"Without a single hesitation," she continued, her hands waving in the air. "Shouldn't you at least make sure there's someone to…I don't know…pick her up or something? Instead of leaving her out in the cold like an unwanted dog?" He tried suppressing a laugh but the laugh, nothing short of anything but ridicule, made her frantic expression die.

"She was my whore and you're upset that I threw her out," he said, shaking his head with a smile, "Glorious. Absolutely amusing. You know, you may look like a fetus next to me but you are yet to be unentertaining." He turned away from her, already going down the large staircase as she gaped behind him. Though he didn't glance back at her, it was clear that he wanted her to follow him. Unfortunately, she was stumbling behind him just to keep up with his long strides.

"Wait, you think I look like a _fetus_?"

"Come along, beautiful Selene. Breakfast has already gone cold long enough."

"My lord-"

"Tobias."

" _Tobias_ , that girl is naked in the cold-"

"I will remind you again that she is _not_ naked."

"And she clearly has some sort of, er, relations to you that rely on her pay-"

"And why do you care?" They had stopped at the main landing. Selene's eyes brushed against the too beautiful scene, at the crystal floor-to-ceiling windows and the large furniture that were made from the best of materials. The hard wood floors glistened and the walls were painted with rich colors, covered with gorgeous canvases. She spared a moment just to take an inhale before her eyes connected with Tobias's. He was squinting at her accusingly.

"Why do I care?" She asked back, her voice frail. "I just…I have a few friends who are mistresses for money and while I know you and other high lords see them as scum, I don't. That's her living and you didn't even give her a warning. And, well, she had to mean _something_ to you, right?" But his eyes, only filled with curiosity, blinked at her stupidly.

"She isn't anyone important in my court," he said reassuringly. "Firing her won't make a single difference in her life." And while his face was blank without a single sign of worry, she couldn't help but second guess the High Lord's comment. Surely, compared to someone like him, every peasant was unimportant.

"Please-" But then she stopped. He had led her into a new room that was connected to the living room. Though the living room had been extravagant, it didn't hold the same type of pretentiousness that the new room held. The new room was filled with oversized leather chairs and high bookshelves that touched the ceiling, probably one fifth the size of the living room but yet held so much more meaning. So much power that she didn't deserve to even see. She swallowed.

"Danish?" He asked, holding out a pastry. She looked down at the many coffee tables, which were filled with all sorts of pastries, meats and fruits. It was more food than she had ever seen, even at annual feasts. Of course, that didn't say much to be fair, but she couldn't name half the food that she was looking at.

"Danish?" She asked back, dumbfounded. He threw the pastry at her nonchalantly and he shot it so fast that she barely managed to catch it in her hands. He then picked up a cracker-like food and bit into it. With an immediate grimace on his face, he spat it out onto the ground.

"Gilly!" He yelled, his voice echoing through the entire mansion. Following the awkward silence because surely, though she had only been here since day break, she would have seen at least one servant but still hadn't. She had come to believe that maybe, possibly, the high lord didn't have any servants. But then a small, overly-thin woman popped out from around the corner.

"Yes, my lord?" She said, her dark eyes shining. The lady, probably middle-aged with a few grey hairs already sticking out, didn't even glance at Selene. He looked down at the cracker.

"This is god-awful," he muttered, "You call this a cookie? Disgraceful!" The woman hunched over as he yelled about the disgracefulness of the cookie and the frown lines deepened on her face.

"My apologies, my lord," she said, though her voice did not stumble and there didn't seem to be a bit of fear, "What cookie would you favor? Chocolate? Macadamia?" He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Color it purple, Gilly! Just know that I can't get through the day without a good cookie," he reminded her. The woman didn't even seem surprised by his behavior.

"Of course, my lord," she said, and quickly disappeared behind the corner. Selene turned her body fully towards the high lord.

"Speaking of starting our day," she said, nibbling on the danish. Though she was sure it probably tasted delicious with a good appetite, she was so nervous that it tasted like dirt. But unlike her high lord, she didn't say a word. "What _are_ we doing today?" His eyes flickered at her.

"What would entertain you, beautiful Selene?" He asked back in a dry voice, pacing along the book-filled room casually. She took another forced bite of danish, forcing herself to swallow it as she followed his circles.

"Well, I know many high lords would want to have an extravagant party or do certain…" And suddenly, she didn't know if she could even say it. "You know… _activities_." He then gave her a quick glance, his eyebrows hunched downward.

"I don't like parties," he said stiffly, turning away. "Half of the people you are eating with either want you dead or are so goddamn desperate that they are willing to fuck you for two pieces of gold. Really, not the party person." She cleared her throat, hoping that the dust-taste would leave her tongue but only got worse once those words were spoken.

"Oh," she said, and suddenly she felt very uncomfortable, "what about other marriage activities?" He laughed.

"Marriage activities?" He said, and she couldn't help but feel a shiver go down her body. "What kind of marriage activities did your barbaric village put inside your pretty-" but then his voice stopped. He swung towards one of the wide bookcases, as her eyes followed his gaze. And, just like that, multiple servants popped out of various corners. She watched as the, probably a dozen, servants came out of nowhere.

"If I had known you had so many servants," she began to say, but then as she heard a loud crack, she stopped. Her eyes wandered around, searching for the source, and wondering for just a moment if it was a cracked window, but then she, realized, quite quickly, that it was coming from the bookcase.

"Is it going to fall?" She said, her voice high with anxiety. "My lord-" But then the bookcase swung open, numerous books falling to the floor and she jumped back, exhaling loudly. But Tobias didn't move an inch, and more like had a bored expression across his face. The bookcase began to tilt towards them.

"You should probably-" It began to tilt forward and she shrieked loudly, but then a figure blocked her view. Her mouth dropped. It was as if he had come from behind the bookcase entirely, but when the bookcase stayed still at an awkward angle, she realized it was -

"A door," she finished aloud. Connected to a room, she realized quickly. She tried peering in, just to see what sort of room was hidden behind the bookcase, but a new figure blocked her vision. He was tall, alike to Tobias, but still a few inches shorter. His skin was tanner than anyone in her village, but still didn't reach Tobias's dark pigment. His hair was a light brown, flowing down his neck in ocean-like waves. He stepped towards them slowly, his grey eyes shining. He held onto Tobias's stare with a look of soaring amusement, and a type of happiness that peasants, commoners who meant nothing, could never have. And then he spoke, the carefreeness leaking with humor.

"You fired Rosalie? I was starting to think that her unwavering whining was appealing to you."

"She was taking up air," Tobias replied instantly, almost to the defense. But Selene felt him glance at her. As if waiting for her to break.

"She's been here for three years. Where the hell is she going to go now?" And then the light humor was absolutely gone. There was a sharp edge at the end of the man's words, piercing her. Selene's head shot towards Tobias immediately. _She isn't anyone important_ , he had told her. Clearly, she thought as anger took up the other man's face, Tobias was downsizing the charade.

"She'll find something else," Tobias spat shortly. The other boy's eyes narrowed on him.

"And yet you replace her with an _Illyarian_?" The other continued as if Tobias hadn't even responded. The man shot a short look of mild acknowledgement at Selene and then waved at her dismissively. "No offense, lovely, you're quite the beauty, but you aren't exactly-"

"She's my wife, Leon. So I'd suggest you pick your words carefully," Tobias advised. The other man, Leon, blinked at him stupidly. There was a short, uncomfortable silence that made Selene want to back away from both of them but then Leon let out a bark of laughter. Not cold, like Tobias's, but truthfully amused. It rang around the mansion joyfully, causing many of the servants around them to cease.

"You go around the Illyarian camps for five short weeks and you come back with a child bride? Have you gone _completely mad_?" Leon said through his laughter, his eyes dropping on her like she was a pile of cow stool. Her lips pursed at him, about to snarl something as well but then Tobias put his hand on her shoulder.

"Leon-" But then Leon waved at him in a carefree sense.

"I'll go message Quinton and he'll write an annulment for you to sign right when you come back to your senses. And maybe if you ever swallow your pride and apologize, Rosalie will-" And then, so fast that Selene could barely register the movement, Tobias's fist collided with Leon's cheek. Leon tripped back, his hand curled up as if he dared to fight the High Lord, but then his eyes met with Tobias's. His hand uncurled jerkily and he took a forced breath.

"She's my mate," Tobias said through his clenched teeth. "My wife, my consort, my _mate_. And you will bow to her, as you would any companion of mine." Leon tilted his head at him, his eyes bloodshot and his nose flared. His jaw tensed, swallowing, and Selene wasn't entirely sure what he would do next. Attack him? Storm out? Chop off her head out of spite? But he then turned to Selene swiftly, his eyes unreadable. Selene's shoulders lurched forward uncomfortably, flushing with redness.

"He doesn't have to-" But then he fell to his knees. This man, so filled with joy and happiness, now stared up at her in surrender. In the middle of a study room.

"I am severely ashamed of my actions, my lady," he said, "Please, accept my apology." She looked at Tobias desperately but he merely reflected the observant look that he had been flashing at her constantly all morning. Watching her. Waiting for her response.

"Of course I forgive you," she said, nervous, "It's not like you knew. It isn't the first time that a man has mistaken me for a mistress, trust me." But Leon stayed still. It wasn't until Tobias walked closer to him that Leon exhaled in relief.

"Now come on," Tobias said with a smirk, letting out his hand as if he hadn't just crushed the young man's dignity in a thousand pieces, "We have things to do, older brother." Leon snorted through his nose, taking his hand and then flashing a sloppy smile at Selene.

"Welcome to the family!" He yelled, sounding truly joyful in a way that she didn't expect. She gave him the best smile she could muster while shaken by his change of pace.

"I'm sorry, but did you just call him," she said, confusion filling her so fast that she couldn't continue without asking, "Did you just call him big brother?" Tobias nodded curtly.

"Yes, only by thirteen months though, to be fair," Tobias said, rolling his eyes. "He's not that much older." She took a step towards him, shaking her head.

"If he's your older brother, and yet you hold the throne, shouldn't he be," she hesitated to say it, as she feared she was crossing lines, " _dead_?" His face was utterly blank for a moment until he snorted, giving out a laugh.

"Successors aren't chosen by birth order, darling, they are decided by strength," he said, but even that didn't make logical sense. She looked from Tobias to Leon, who was now lounging in a chair casually, clearly and visibly breathing as healthy as could be.

"But he's still alive," she sputtered, eyeing Leon.

"Brilliant observation, beautiful Selene," Tobias responded, and she thought for just a moment that he was suppressing a smile, "But not observant enough. Leon?" Leon, who was nibbling on a slice of cheese, smiled at him slyly. His eyes turned to her, glittering.

"Behold, my greatest flaw," he said dramatically, and then yanked up one of the legs of his trousers. She gasped, eyeing the silvery object. It was metal – his entire leg. A prosthetic.

"What-I don't-"

"Yes, my fake leg. It's a bit flashy, don't you think?" Leon laughed, wiggling it. "And yet I'm still the best at jousting." Tobias waved his hand at the odd, metal contraption like it was far from special. She had never seen anything like it, even thought that they were myths. Sure, some men in her village had wooden planks as prosthetics but never made out of metal. Clockwork wasn't common.

"So you see, he would've lost combat by all means," Tobias said arrogantly, smirking. She glanced at Leon, a mix between horror and disgust filling her face, but he merely smiled at her. For a moment she even wondered if there was relief on his face.

"Don't worry, this wasn't Tobias's doing. A man, Jameson, cut it off during a brutal battle," Leon replied. "Never been able to make love to a girl the same ever since." Before she could spew out her apologies, feeling flushed with embarrassment, Tobias spoke.

"Speaking of dear Jameson, he is coming over today," he said, clearing his throat. "Along with a few other members."

"Oh for the love of the cauldron, not again," Leon groaned loudly. Selene's mouth dropped, stepping closer to the two of them.

"No!" She shouted. The cheese that was going towards Leon's mouth fell to his chest. Tobias's eyebrows perched up in surprise.

"No?" He asked back.

"You can't let Jameson come over here!" She objected. "He betrayed your brother." He rolled his eyes casually, grabbing an apple and then biting into it. Clearly, he thought it was a dull subject.

"Old news, my lady," Leon said immediately, shrugging as well, "You know what'll piss you off even more though? He killed one of my favorite mistresses. Took off her head like a corkscrew. There's not a girl in the world that's like Felicia. He is a fucking brute, no argument there." She shook her head at him fiercely, her hands out in the air.

"You would host a man who took off your leg and therefore threw away your chance at the throne like he was an old friend?" And she was talking to both of them now.

"Why, dear Selene, wouldn't we? Jameson is, after all, our most favored cousin."

"And, to be fair," Leon added evenly, waving his pointing finger, "I was more of the reading type, anyways."

 **It's a bit different than the other two chapters. Please, please, PLEASE review. I really feed off reviews and if you have the time, even leave a little comment about what you think. I really like reviews, even if it's just saying that you'd like more** **J** **Also, sorry for the errors.**


	4. Chapter 4

Her eyes jumped from Tobias to Leon and then to Tobias again.

"Do they…do they know we're married? Is this like a meeting over our marriage? Are they against it?" It was ridiculous, maybe even childish, but she knew what High Fae thought of Illyarians – they were used as weapons and weapons only. They weren't exactly peasants in the system, but they weren't marriage material either. They were what they were and they would stay that way forever. And while Tobias's face was emotionless, she knew that he was in knowledge of what she was saying.

"If anyone has a problem with our marriage," he said, "they can die because of it." She took a deep breath, trying to release her worries but this meeting was with powerful people – one of whom had almost ruined the royal family by taking off a single leg. She wanted to believe in Tobias's power, yes, but power only went so far.

"And when will this be? This meeting?" Selene asked.

"In about, eh, I dunno, half an hour?" Leon answered casually, nodding towards the sun. "But those ogres are always an hour late. So see you an hour?" It took her a moment, as she held his gaze, to realize that he was still talking to her.

"Wait, _me_? You aren't actually insisting that I be a part of this meeting, are you?"

"Well, you can read can't you?" Tobias replied.

"Yes, I already told you that."

"Then I'm not sure why you wouldn't," he said. She looked down at herself, at the silk nightgown that she had entirely forgotten about.

"I didn't change," she said, "I-" He waved his hand at her impatiently.

"Then go do that. I don't want to exile half my counsel for staring at your breasts." he said harshly. She flushed.

"Where do I get clothes? I don't-"

"Go open that door in your room that you refuse to open – yes, I saw how you looked at it when I brought you in this morning. It's called a closet," Tobias sneered sarcastically. "And wear that…what are those things called again, Leon?"

"Traditional sashes?" Leon guessed. Tobias snapped his fingers approvingly.

"Yes, put a dress on and then layer some sashes over it. It's Night Court tradition," he told her. She felt herself pulling at her gown anxiously, confusion filling her. But, in fear that her incompetence would backfire on her, she walked out of the room soundlessly and with slight hesitation, walked up the large steps. While the estate was straight forward, the place made her dizzy. There were so many rooms – so many stairs. She couldn't remember how many flights she took up until she turned around and started over again from the main landing. It probably took her ten minutes before she made it to her room again, despite it being just a few floors above them and the fourth door to the left.

When she opened the door to her room, she sat at the edge of her bed worriedly, staring around at the lavender walls. There was barely anything in the room, and a part of her wanted to fill it up but when she thought about it deeper she didn't know what in the world she would fill it with. In her village, all she could ever think about was collecting herbs and helping around the house. Though her father was a blacksmith, she was a part-time laundress for some extra money, but that was all she had. She didn't know much about herself or what she wanted to do now that she had the opportunity. She just wanted to be safe.

After a few minutes of day dreaming, she forced herself off the bed and walked towards the closed closet cautiously. Taking in a wary breath, she opened the door slowly. She didn't know what she was expecting – a cloak, a few dresses, possibly even something else entirely. But instead she tipped back on her heels, gaping. There were more than a few dresses – so many that she was almost afraid that it had to be someone else's. There were at least twenty dresses in the closet, all ranging in rich colors. Her eyes scanned them in awe, unsure of which one to pick. There were so many colors – a pure white, a deep maroon, sapphire blue. But, praying that she wouldn't catch anyone's attention, she picked a plain black gown. Without thinking, she stripped down to her underwear and tossed the black gown over her head. Instead of two straps to hold up the dress, there was only one that reached across her chest. It was sleek, pretty but hopefully made her invisible.

Her eyes fell back inside the closet, looking at the many cloths that were hung up on the back of the door. They weren't dresses like the others, but were long cuts of materials. They were sashes, she deducted quickly. She remembered what Tobias and Leon had told her about the sashes. But how many should she put on? And which ones would be appropriate? She realized quickly, as her fingers ran across them, that six to seven sashes were attached together, as if whoever put them there was implying that they should be worn together. She picked up one of the bundles, her eyes scanning it. The bundle contained sashes ranged from a light, opaque shade of red to such a dark red that it almost looked black. While she felt uncomfortable putting on the severely nice material, the rest of the bundles were far too distracting for her. Most of the other bundles were filled with much brighter colors, which would cause far more attention than she needed. She put them over her body lankily, fidgeting with the order of which they should be displayed on, but then she heard a voice echo.

"He took away my goddamned land and just gave it to some new bloke that he met on his last travel. Said that I wasn't inspiring enough. And because he couldn't trust someone who has only fucked his sister." She walked towards her closed door, pressing her ear to it silently. While the voice was several floors away, she couldn't help but listen.

"Well, _do_ you still fuck your sister?" Another unfamiliar voice asked evenly.

"Duh. But that doesn't mean I've never fucked anyone else," the first voice responded. The other voice, light but still loud enough to be clear even from floors below, laughed. She waited until their chortles were no more than barely audible whispers before she opened the door sneakily. As she turned her head towards the nearest staircase, she decided quickly that she didn't want to run into the two men. Knowing that she had never gone that way and wasn't exactly sure where the next staircase was and what room would meet her on the main landing when she did, she daringly stepped into the new territory.

She thought it would be easier maneuvering in the house through a different passage, but it only confused her more. The hallway walls changed colors, the repetitive doors soon looked far different than what her own bedroom door had looked like, and only a few minutes later she was wondering if she was still in the same house. Everything, even though she was still on the same floor, looked entirely different when she walked closer to the opposite wing, and it terrified her. There were more turns and corners than she had imagined and she still was yet to see a second staircase. She swung her head behind her anxiously, looking back at where she had come from originally. Her bedroom door was no longer in sight. Thankfully, as her pace quickened, she caught eyes with the second staircase. Nervously, she teetered down the steps, counting down the floors. When she arrived to the floor that she had sworn was the main landing, she knew she made a grave mistake. It looked nothing like the living room she had been swept into only an hour prior.

"Lost?" A voice, light as can be, asked. She jumped around jerkily but when she met eyes with the stranger, her face softened. Unlike Tobias, she deducted quickly, he showed no signs of intimidation nor a threat. No warningly vibes went down her spine and he didn't appear quite that evil at all. He even looked, well, _nice_. Even though she had only been in the castle for a short time, she knew that nice high fae were hard to come by. And not only that, but he held an unusual beauty that only she could relate to. He ran his fingers up and down his white-blonde hair casually, making her stare at the unusual blonde that he bore, just like her. One part of her was screaming to _run_ , because surely this beautiful man had to be a trick, but she couldn't find herself to walk away.

"It must be your first time here, right?" The man continued, stepping towards her cautiously. She felt her moist hands clamp together.

"Something like that," she said under her breath. He waved his hand forgivingly, a warm glow filling his cheeks.

"I've probably been here a dozen times and I still don't know how to get through this maze. I was just trying to find the bathroom and yet I have no idea where I am," he said, his green eyes dancing around the room. "I'm assuming this is the trophy room, though." It was evidently sarcasm as her eyes swept across the room – there had to be a dozen golden cups on the many shelves, along with a number of animal horns that illustrated Tobias's magnificent hunting skills. She sneered at the sight. Why did the high fae think that trophies illustrated someone's power? Shiny objects didn't make a difference to her.

Her eyes, now filled with suspicion, went back to the mysterious man. He was clearly a council member by the many pins on his tunic and was standing with an arrogant grace that reminded her greatly of Tobias. They held each other's gaze silently until his eyes widened and he stepped closer to her. He took in a sharp breath, gaping as he looked at her up and down rapidly. Her cheeks heated instantly as she inched backwards, feeling suddenly aware of the fact that they were very much alone.

"What's wrong? What are you looking at?" She demanded, but he merely shook his head.

"You're Illyarian," he blurted in awe, his words but a whisper. She glanced around the trophy room frantically, an explanation forming on her lips but then he held out his palm.

"I am not trying to ridicule you. It's…inspiring," he said, looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "An Illyarian, here. At a council meeting. If our people wrote books-"

" _Our_ people?" She interrupted, her eyebrows furrowed down. She scanned his body again, looking more closely for details now. While he was far from forgettable, she didn't see any wings or any distinct Illyarian features. To be honest, he practically looked _anti_ -Illyrian. Like her, his vibrant blonde hair and golden eyes stuck out vividly, nothing like the dark hair and dark eyes that normally filled the Illyarian villages. At least she had wings though, unlike him.

"My mother is Illyarian," he explained quickly, reading the confused look in her eyes, "Sadly, I didn't inherit the wings. But my father's side gave me enough power to not be bitter."

"In all due respect, I don't think there's a single thing on this planet that would stop me from being bitter," she replied, almost snappily. "Our Illyarian blood, no matter how tiny, should not be forgotten." He gave her a crooked smile.

"I didn't say I wasn't envious," he said lightly, flashing her a half-smile. "Now, what is your-"

"Selene," she replied quickly, too quickly, and then cleared her throat. "My name is Selene." He bowed at the waist, making her flush harder.

"And my name is Owain." When he rose back up, his eyebrows were furrowed down at her dress. He tilted his head curiously.

"Nobody told me we were going to war," He said, his eyes narrowing on the sashes, a small glint of anger in his eyes. Her body stiffened.

"War? We're going to war?" She asked fast, her heart beat suddenly racing. "What-" But he reflected the same surprised look.

"Your sashes," he said, pointing at them rapidly, "The color order of the red. It signifies war, does it not?" And then, just like that, her face drained dead white and she was gripping the sashes desperately, fear filling her eyes.

"I-I didn't know. I promise I didn't know. I need to go change, please tell-" Without a warning, he reached for her sashes and reversed them, making the color pattern the exact opposite than before. He layered them carefully across her chest, shifting them at an angle that almost made them look elegant if it wasn't her who was wearing them.

"Good thing you met me first. The High Lord may have just taken off your head for sending such a message," he said, smiling as he took one step back, "Perfectly non-deathly now. Now, is it okay if we go back towards the High Lord's conference? I heard there was a bathroom right next to the conference room." Without waiting for her to reply, he began walking out of the room and on towards the next wing. She teetered behind hesitantly.

"I'm assuming you are a newlywed?" He said, almost mockingly as turned his head back to her. "Oh, don't give me that look. You stick out like a sore thumb with that dazed look in your eyes." She pursed her lips at him defensively.

"And I'm assuming you're one of the daft morons who caused this conference to occur," she snapped back. He snorted at her, his eyes bouncing with amusement.

"Quite the opposite," he argued. "I'm one of the few that settles down the fires that erupt in that room. I must admit, it's a good thing we have a lady in the room. Now I know that there will at least be two rational people speaking." She flashed him a surprised look.

"My husband told me that-"

"Fuck, please don't tell me you're one of those girls who actually have the opportunity to walk in there and yet watch in silence as those men corrupt this world," he snapped suddenly. She blinked at him stupidly, stopping for a moment.

"It's been two hundred years since the high lord allowed a woman to join the conference," he went on. "Don't blow it."

"But I'm not a councilmember," she argued, though her voice cracked uneasily. "I'm a woman. I can't-" The look on his face silenced her.

"Talk?" He finished. "Have an opinion? Trust me, lovely, if you're going to be a part of this world, you are going to have to keep up."

"An opinion? I don't know anything about this place. My husband-"

"Why do you think your husband wanted you to come anyways?" He asked back harshly. She opened her mouth but then she closed it quickly. Why _did_ he want her to come? She assumed because of aesthetics, to introduce her to his council, but what part did she play?

"You think he wants my opinion? That's why he wanted me to come?" She replied back. He shrugged sarcastically.

"I'm not sure why else he'd drag his wife to this ghastly place," he sneered, looking around him grimly. "Who are you married to, anywho? Quentin? Fabian?" She opened her mouth, about to tell him, but then he waved his hand at her dismissively.

"Oh, it doesn't really matter, I guess," he said quickly. "They're all the same. Brutes till the very end." She bit her lip gently.

"Actually, I..." She paused for a moment, clearing her throat. "I'm married to the High Lord. _The_ High Lord." Owain stopped sharply. He turned towards her, his eyes wide as he scanned her once more.

" _What?_ " Her face drained white. She had to admit, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to spout the news to a man she barely knew. Surely, Tobias would want to tell them himself, as it was a pretty large announcement.

"I'm his mate," she said, her voice pierced highly. "I know, it's quite a shock. Someone like me, being courted by someone like him." His eyes went up and down her again, his mouth slightly ajar.

"I'm…I'm of age," she stuttered, her cheeks hot as he stared at her. "I know, I look like a child. But I'm eighteen and have already bled. And, I know how to write and read. I have manners and-"

"He really is going to change this place," he whispered to himself, his eyes wide with wonder. She blinked at him stupidly.

"What do you mean?" She replied, but he merely shook his head and began walking again. She hurried behind him as he continued to shake his head and mumble under his breath.

"Wait!" She demanded, following on his heels as fast as she could. "What do you mean, changing this place?"

"He married an Illyarian," he said, letting out a shallow snort. "There isn't another man in that room who has the balls to marry an Illyarian, even if they were mates. Anybody else would've just kept you as their whore, love." She pursed her lips.

"What's your point?" She said, this time snappily. He stopped walking for a moment, letting out a sigh. She could see as she peaked over his head that they had almost made it to living room, which meant they were one step closer to the conference room. Even from a room away, she could hear the men's harsh voices as they snarled at each other.

"There's something new about you, Selene. Not just you being an Illyarian, but something else. Something that makes him want you at that meeting. Oh, and I finally found the loo." Instead of walking further into the next room, he turned to his right and opened a dusty door that was clearly the bathroom.

And as he walked away, whistling under his breath, she couldn't help but look at how bright his blonde hair was.

 **~*~discidium~*~**

She finally caught her breath when she met eyes with Leon. He looked anxious – frightened maybe. He was lingering outside the conference room with a sneer on his lips, shooting dagger-like stares at every man who passed him. But when he saw her, he pushed past the men roughly, ignoring their cold curses. His lips were trembling.

"The fuck have you been?" He hissed. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Half of the council is already seated and you're…" His eyes fell down on her suddenly, analyzing her body. Not sexually, _thank the cauldron_ , but as if double checking that all of her limbs were still together. The anger, like a time table, brushed away within a second. Her eyebrows furrowed down.

"I got lost-?" She began but he rolled his eyes tiredly.

"Oh, forget it," He said with a sigh, pulling her with him towards the large double doors that led them into the conference room. A small smile appeared on her lips.

"Were you worried about me, Leon?" She teased. He waved a hand at her.

"For my own head, really," Leon told her with a huff, though he still didn't seem calm. "You look nervous – stop being nervous. It doesn't help. Just…be yourself. You are, to be frank, the safest person in the room." She swallowed anxiously.

"I don't know how to be myself," she mumbled, "I'm not ready-"

"Then just sit down and follow along, alright?" Leon said, unusually sharp. "Fuck, we have to go in. Come on." But before she could comment on the sweet relief that filled his face as he looked back at her once more, she stepped into the conference room. It wasn't extraordinary like she expected – just plain walls and a dark wood table that seated at least forty men. The only object that stuck out was a wooden throne, which was carved with interesting designs that made her blink stupidly. Tobias was slouched inside of it comfortably, his eyes hawking the room with his lips curled back in disgust.

"Oy, we have an Illyrian here," A voice behind her gruffed. She turned her head fast, meeting eyes with a thick man who had a beard down to his waist. His eyes were dark – dark like Hunter's. He looked at her greedily, his mouth in a smirk. She glanced around her quickly, realizing in an instant that Leon had stopped to speak to someone and that he was too far away for her comfort.

"Must be the High Lord's new mistress," another man, a redhead, snorted. "'ey, love, do we get to bed with you too?" Instantly, her face flushed with redness. She stepped back on her heels.

"I-" And then she heard the sharp slinging sound before she saw it. A dagger, small but sharp, whisked through the air and hit the redhead square in the neck. He tripped back, choking loudly as the voices quietened. She felt someone pull her back – Leon, probably. Her eyes danced around, watching as none of them men reached for the choking man. Her fingers tingled as she had to stop herself from reaching for him, and thankfully the gruff hands holding her back held onto her tightly.

"She is my wife," Tobias said behind her, still sitting in his chair leisurely, his voice so sharp that he didn't need to raise it. "Lady Selene. And the next person who dares to disrespect her will have their entire village burned down to the ground." There was a chilling silence but yet, everything suddenly felt so loud. All the men's faces, no matter how large or scary they seemed, turned white. But then a man stepped up daringly, his eyes flashing.

"You let an _Illyrian_ be the mother of our land? They aren't High Fae," The man pointed out. When she turned her head, she was surprised to see a smile on Tobias's face.

"Last time I checked, Haagen, neither are bastards," he spat coolly, the smile still on his lips. The man, Haagen, flinched his lips up angrily, his hand inching towards his knife, but then stepped back with a grunt. She let out a breath. Awkwardness filling her, she stepped towards Tobias and sat in the chair right beside him, about to whisper an apology but his eyes were sweeping across the room again. He didn't acknowledge her as she waited for him to meet her gaze, so she sighed deeply, catching the reassuring look on Leon's face. He sat on her opposite side, leaning towards her.

"Don't worry," Leon said, and she wondered as she looked at him where that care-free man she had met earlier had gone. There was anxiety all over his face. "Just breathe." She turned back in front of her, trying to ignore the annoying tapping that Leon was doing against the table. Tobias, on the other hand, looked cold as stone. His fingers didn't inch towards her, and for a long moment she didn't know where she should look at – her cold, unreadable husband or the nerve-filled brother-in-law beside her.

"I guess we should start," Tobias drawled after a moment, catching the eyes of all the men in the room. Most of the men looked away instinctively, but a few, bravely, held his gaze. "Does anybody have anything to say, for a start?" Nobody said anything at first. They all merely looked at their laps or quickly glanced at the person beside them and Tobias's eyebrows lurched up in surprise.

"Nobody?" He asked, louder. "Nobody has anything to say?" But then just as Selene came to believe that nobody had an objection, a larger man stood up. Selene caught her breath, thinking that possibly Tobias would've been insulted but he smiled at the large man. His eyes twinkled, but not in an admiring way. A calculating way, a predatory way.

"Ah, Salazar," Tobias said. , amusement filling his voice. "I see Jameson isn't accompanying you?" The man fidgeted awkwardly, glancing around the room before meeting Tobias's eyes once again.

"He told me he'd meet me here," The man replied, "He said he was going to take a different route to here. He must be la-"

"You're boring me, Salazar," Tobias said suddenly, rolling his eyes, "Please, go on and babble about what is on your mind." Salazar straightened suddenly, as if jumping a bit, but then as he fumbled with his cuffs he nodded his head obediently.

"You took away my lands," he said, his voice cracking at the end. Selene expected to see snickering but around the room, all the members suddenly sat upright. Fear stung their faces as their eyes widened. Clearly, the fact that someone's lands were taken away meant something far worse.

"And?" Tobias replied, picking at his fingers. Salazar swallowed.

"Well, the Northern Lands have been in my family for five generations and only I know those lands as well as-"

"Wrong," Tobias snapped. Salazar blinked.

"Ex-Excuse me, my lord?"

"You are certainly not qualified to hold those lands," Tobias said easily, glancing up at him. Salazar's mouth opened immediately.

"Not qualified? In all due respect my lord, who could be more qualified than someone who was born to be the representative of the northern tribes? That is-"

"Selene of the Northern Lands."

And then Selene's face snapped towards Tobias like a lightning bolt.

" _Me_?" Selene blurted. "I-" But then she felt Leon's tight hand clasp her leg. Letting out a choking sound, she looked at Leon desperately but he shot her a stern look. She took two uneven breaths and then looked around the room once more. All the men were staring at her in horror.

"Her?" Salazar said, anger rising in his voice. "An Illyarian, in charge of nearly twenty villages?" Selene couldn't help but agree.

"Yes. Since she has lived in one of the nearby villages for the last eighteen years, unlike you who hasn't slept a night in your lands in over a decade, I thought she was a wee bit more qualified. Do you disagree?" Tobias merely said, his eyebrows raised. The man let out a shaky breath.

"I-My Lord-No. No, I…I agree," The man managed to say, slumping back down in his chair in surrender. The man's eyes looked far away, staring into nothing as if he had lost his entire life, and yet he couldn't even argue. Selene, on the other hand, was looking at Tobias as if he were absolutely insane. Her? Be the representative over twenty villages? She couldn't possibly-

But then the doors opening with a bang interrupted her thoughts. She heard Leon's growl before the doors opened fully, and she blinked once she registered the two figures in the door way. Two men lingered in front of the councilmembers – one large one and one, she realized quickly, was someone she had just met. Owain. She looked around the room again, suddenly realizing that he had in fact not arrived yet. The larger man, she realized, must have been Jameson, as everybody looked quite alert. She noticed how both of the men glanced at the dead body lingering in the doorway, as if mildly interested, but then walked in unison into the room.

"Our marvelous cousin," she heard Leon drawl under his breath in annoyance, and she could tell by the rest of the looks in the room that nobody disagreed.

It wasn't impossible to see how the beefy councilmen could slice off Leon's leg, to be fair. The man was taller than any person in the room, including Tobias, and had biceps bigger than her own head. It only took her half a second to recognize the slim figure beside him - Owain. He looked like a stick next to the man next to him, but there wasn't a flash of fear on his face.

"Well, well, well," Tobias chimed, his hands intertwined and his elbows propped onto the grand table. "Infamously late, as usual. Do you ever fail to be predictable, Jameson?" Her eyes moved towards the big fellow again, but he didn't even twitch. And then Owain stepped closer to the table, his hands on an empty seat. He had a smug look on his face.

"I have nothing to prove, my lord," Owain replied, and then it was at that moment that she realized who Owain was. Jameson wasn't the large ogre-like man. _He_ was Jameson. Owain was Jameson. It took every part of her not to seem surprised, even a bit betrayed, as he smirked at each person individually, but when his eyes found hers his arrogance ceased. His eyes twinkled at her for a moment, holding her gaze for longer than she liked. While majority of the table didn't catch it, she could have sworn she heard a growl under Tobias's breath.

"Sit, Jameson," Tobias demanded. With a flawless smirk, Jameson sat directly in front of her, leaning back in his chair casually and tipping on the back legs of the chair. As his eyes remained on her, she looked away casually, avoiding his gaze.

"Did I miss anything, my lord? Everybody looks stricken," Jameson said, chortling. Nobody followed his laughs, but Tobias flashed him a cruel smile.

"I was just telling the council how I have given the Northern Lands to Selene, my new wife," Tobias said, and she heard a hint of arrogance in his tone when Tobias said her name. Jameson's smile didn't falter but there was a flicker in his eyes.

"Ah, taking away a lord's only income is such a traditional gift. Tell me, how did you meet? Are you a lord's daughter? A desired woman?" This time, she realized, Jameson was talking to her. She felt Leon's hand tense warningly. She opened her mouth, choking for a moment.

"I…we…" _He found me bound to a post, ready to be slaughtered for treason._ But she didn't say that. Instead she said, "My father is a war hero. We met through him." Leon's hands loosened but Jameson, she realized quickly, didn't believe her. It was written all over his face when he gave her a tight smirk – it was like he could see right past her. Like he knew her.

"Congratulations," he said in a tense voice, his eyes flickering towards Tobias. "Now, please tell me, why are we all here?"

"Annual meeting," Tobias said slowly, emphasizing each word as if Jameson was absolutely stupid.

"Yes," Jameson said, dismissing Tobias's tone. "But why now? It's not supposed to be for another three months." Tobias huffed impatiently.

"It's time we start thinking ahead. Not that _you_ have much to contribute, Jameson." There was a tick of silence before Jameson's eyes darkened. His smile vanished.

"What is that supposed to mean, my lord?" Jameson said carefully, clearly forgetting about his cheeky persona. But, Tobias hand was smirking so victoriously that the hair's on the back of Selene's neck went straight up. Curious, Selene's eyes shifted towards Leon's face but Leon's face was emotionless.

"Well, now that you let your people be barbequed like pork chops, I assumed you wouldn't even show up," Tobias said. Selene's eyes widened and a sharp pain hit the bottom of the stomach. Around the table, the lords looked away uncomfortably. _Barbequed?_ But even Leon's eyes filled with sympathy.

"I heard they burned to death," Tobias went on, chuckling cruelly. Jameson's face was dead white and his eyes, though once seemed handsome, looked deathly.

"My men died in honor," Jameson corrected, his lips shaking. "If anything, my people were hoping you'd show up. You are their generous High Lord after all." Tobias's small laughs turned into bellows.

"I have more people to worry about. You think one tribe is at the top of my priority?" Jameson let out a cold laugh

"Only a tribe over fifteen thousand men, two-thirds of whom _died_ ," Jameson said through his clenched teeth. "And you didn't send an ounce of relief."

"It's not my fault that your men can't fight," Tobias chortled in return, laughing still.

"My men were sleeping," Jameson snapped back. "If you had brought the resources like I had _politely_ asked for, this wouldn't have been an issue."

"I can't spear my resources on something so petty as a fight against a warlord. I have multiple war lords against me. What, you want me to march all the way up there and give you all of my supplies? All of my help?" He was taunting him, Selene realized. The man that cut off his brother's leg, who stopped his brother from being the ultimate ruler of the Night Court. But she felt like there was something else, something beyond the maddening glint in her husband's eyes.

"When half of the woman are slaughtered and more than half of the children are now orphans, yes," Jameson said, and she could swear there were tears in his eyes. Tobias shook his head at him.

"You started that fight," Tobias said to him, "You did that, Jameson. Not me. I refuse to be held responsible for something I specifically didn't agree with. You should've done better." Jameson's mouth opened in protest, his fingers digging into the wood table.

"If I may interrupt, my lord, war lords have been threatening my tribe as well," a man interrupted. Everybody's head swung to that part of the table, eyeing the man. He was sweating profusely. Tobias's eyebrows perked up in mild interest.

"And have you tried negotiating?" Tobias asked. The man turned red.

"Well, yes, but they want to talk to you," the man said. "We- _I_ need help." Tobias's mouth turned into a tight line and clearly, he wasn't pleased with standing up against the warlords.

"I'll send him a letter," Leon interrupted quickly, not without shooting a warningly stare at his brother. "As our lord's high general, he'll take me seriously." Jameson scuffed under his breath but nobody heard him but her.

"Thank you," the man said, nodding his head down. Leon nodded back at him curtly.

"And I, my lord, have been raided continuously. We have fought and tried negotiating, but like Jameson's situation, they are not listening," a third man said. Tobias leaned back in his chair and let out a long, exhaustive puff of air.

"How many have died?" Tobias asked curiously. The man closed his eyes for a second, taking a shallow breath.

"Fourteen men, but twenty women have been raped and five young boys are missing, my lord," the man said, pain aching in his voice. While Selene's stomach twisted and she wanted so much to just reach out to the stranger, Tobias rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I will release warriors to all of your villages. They'lll guard the front gates – or your damn house. Whatever you need," Tobias said finally, clearly defeated. Jameson shook his head, a mirthless smile on his face.

"Sending a few warriors? That won't be enough," Jameson said, letting out a chuckle. "These war lords are hungry. We need a firm leader to defend us." Tobias barred his teeth. Around the table, multiple lords agreed.

"Be careful, Jameson. Don't push your luck," Tobias growled. Tobias had a small smirk on his face as Jameson turned away hastily after a long moment of holding his gaze tightly. Selene swallowed.

"How many warriors, my lord?" A voice interrupted. Tobias turned towards one of the lords who had interjected. He shrugged casually.

"I'll distribute one-sixteen of my Illyarians, Bernard." _My_ Illyarians. And one-sixteenth. How many did that mean? One, maybe two of the Illyarians in her village? She- _They_ could spare that many, but it didn't settle well.

Bernard cleared his throat. Leon's lips turned up.

"Don't silence yourself, Lord Bernard. Speak if you have an issue," Leon demanded. Bernard nodded hesitantly.

"Well, yes. I just-Well, I can speak for most of the lords here that we will need more than one-sixteenth of the Illyarians. We need an army, my lord." Suddenly, Selene tensed. Those Illyarians were her people as well. Surely, her new husband understand that it was her job to protect them. But, as she looked at Tobias pleadingly, he didn't look her away. She leaned to the front of her seat anxiously, watching as his mouth opened.

"Fine, Bernard. You get one fifth of all the Illyarians under one hundred and fifty years old in the North Western villages." One-hundred and fifty years old. In the North Western villages. Most of the ones that young were still in underdeveloped villages, waiting for recruiters to finally take them in. That wouldn't just cut into the Illyarian camps – they would cut into the villages as well. Her village.

Her fingers clung to the table tightly, sucking in a harsh breath.

"No," she tried saying, but she couldn't let the word out. An army – an army of Illyarians. Those were her people – the people she was bound to protect. With the camp leaders she had, the people needed the few Illyarians that would stop the women from being raped and the children abused.

"Fifty percent and all of them have to be under a hundred years old. I want them young," Bernard argued. That was over half of the Illyarian villages, she wanted to say. That was her entire village. That was her everything.

"No," Tobias replied. She looked at Leon desperately and finally she caught his attention. His eyes looked at her piercingly, clearly understanding what was running through her head.

"Forty-five."

"You're pushing it," Tobias reminded him. Bernard swallowed.

"Would you-would you, my lord, allow for forty percent of the Illyarian legion?" There was a moment of silence. Tobias straightened on his chair.

"Wait!" Jameson interrupted sharply. She saw, at that moment, that the same desperate look that she had was on his face as well. Her husband's eyes flickered at him.

"I advise you not to do that, my lord," Jameson told him, his voice oddly polite now. "Many of those men protect the villages. With the winter coming, they need to protect their villages. Surely, you can take the warriors from the training camps. They have more skills, better use. My lord-"

"Forty-percent?" Tobias asked Bernard quickly. The man nodded desperately. Jameson's mouth dropped.

"Wait-"

"I think forty-percent it is," Tobias agreed. Selene felt like she was going to puke. There was no way her village could recover from this – no way they would survive this winter. Jameson bolted up from his seat.

"This is absurd, an outrage!" Jameson bellowed. "Those Illyarians aren't trained for war – they're trained to take care of the village! Why don't you use the Illyarians that are in warrior camps? Isn't that what they're there for?! To be a goddamn _warrior_?!" But nobody defended him. Selene caught his eye, holding onto his gaze tightly.

"Do you accept this, Selene?" Her husband's voice said. He felt so far away – so distant. She looked at him, her mouth wide.

"Ex-excuse me?" She managed to say. He smiled but his eyes, his cold, dark eyes, glared at her.

"As his wife, you have to verify his agreement for war in order to secure the monar-"

"NO!" Selene shouted. And just like that, the entire room took in a breath. Many of the men leaned back in their chair, as if trying to get as far as possible from the quarrel. Her husband glared at her, his lips snarled back. She turned to look at Jameson but even he looked taken aback. His eyebrows were perched up, not necessarily in disagreement but as if he was impressed. The corner of his mouth lifted up.

"My Lady," Leon said beside her, "I understand your emotions towards your village make you fear the outcome of your lord's decision, but-" She swerved to face him.

"My emotions? This will destroy my village-my home!" She shrilled suddenly. "I apologize if my _emotions_ stop me from being blind to the issue here!" Leon growled under his breath.

"Do not fear for your-"

"Tobias, please, don't do this!" Tobias jumped from his chair, glowering above her.

"Stop talking," Leon whispered to her. "Stop fucking talking." But she couldn't look away from her husband. His stepped over her, his face blocking the ceiling.

"I think you may be ill, my love," Tobias insisted, though there wasn't a hint of worry in his voice. Instead, his dark eyes were boiling.

"I am not ill!" She insisted. "I'm against this. How could you possibly-"

"I think you need to lay down. Go to your chambers." And when the words hit her, the sudden dismissal of her presence, beckoning her away to her room like a child, was the moment that she realized that she, the wife of the most powerful man she had ever met, was absolutely powerless. She flinched back. She opened her mouth but then Leon's hand grasped her wrist tightly, pulling her away from the table. She ripped her hand away hastily.

"Of course," she heard herself choke out, shuffling out of her chair and as she walked out, not daring to look back at the countless eyes watching her. Tears swam in her eyes because she had, once again, lost everything.

 **~*~*~discidium~*~***

 _Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in._ She was halfway up the spiral staircase when she heard the rushing feet behind her. _Breathe out. Breathe in, breathe-_

"If you're expecting me to apologize-" But then she stopped. Jameson skidded in front of her, a sly smile on his face. She scowled at him.

"Oh, it's just _you_ ," she spat, swerving around and strutting up the spiraling stairs again. To her greatest dislike, he didn't turn around.

"I came to follow you. I must admit, you left quite the silence. I don't think I've ever seen the High Lord so furi-"

"Oh, would you shut up?!" She snapped. She had made it to the third floor and as she turned to face him once again, her face filled with redness and her hands clenched, she snarled. "You made me look like a fool!" Jameson blinked at her stupidly.

"And how did I do that?" Jameson asked innocently. She shook her head at him.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!" She snarled before continuing her walk towards her bedroom.

"I have absolutely zero idea what you're talking about. I was merely-"

"Well, firstly, you can't even get your bloody name right, _Owain_ ," She said, stopping at her bedroom door. His eyebrows went up.

"If you'd let me explain-"

"Oh, bugger off!" She said, stomping into her room dramatically and attempting to slam the door on his face but he caught the door easily. He walked in with an elegant strut and closed the door firmly behind him. She rolled her eyes.

"What? You actually have something to say to me?" She asked. Jameson leaned against her bedpost casually, catching her gaze through the mirror as she stomped towards the dresser and began to shed off the many layers of sashes.

"Would you have talked to me, Selene? If you knew my name, would you have talked to me?" Jameson said seriously, his arms crossed. "No, you probably wouldn't have. You probably would have given me the middle finger." She let out a mirthless chuckle, turning to face him once again. She was squeezing the bundle of sashes so tightly in her palm that she could feel her fingernails dig into her palm.

"And I'm assuming now you knew that I was the wife of the High Lord?" She said through her clenched teeth. He shrugged nonchalently.

"The only woman who is allowed in the meetings is the wife of the High Lord," Jameson answered evenly. "It wasn't too hard to deduct. Don't take it personally." And then she closed her eyes, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She was dumb – a fool to believe that she could ever trust anybody in the palace. Of course, she thought, nobody but the representatives themselves would be allowed into the meeting. How could she be so stupid? So niave?

"Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be at the high and mighty meeting?"

"Because, Selene," Jameson said slowly, inching towards her as she rested against the dresser. "This whole damn place needs a hero." She squinted at him.

"A hero? And you think that's me?" She asked, her eyebrows rising. "I hate to break this to you, but I'm not a hero. I'm just a girl. A stupid girl from a village that obviously doesn't belong here. After what I just did, I am dead to them." Jameson tensed, his eyes twinkling.

"You can't leave," he told her sternly, taking long strides towards her. "You have a job. A duty-"

"I don't owe them anything," she said, stepping towards him as well. She could feel his breath tickle her face as he leaned towards her.

"Don't-"

"What the cauldron was that?" Leon stormed in her room suddenly, her door opening with a bang. His bloodshot eyes nailed on her before flickering to Jameson, his jaw tightening. "And what are you doing here?" Jameson shrugged nonchalantly, stepping towards the door.

"Just speaking to Selene-"

"You did this didn't you?" Leon growled, growing close to him. Jameson was smirking. "She's just a girl, Jameson. A girl." Jameson looked at him up and down for a moment, his golden eyes twinkling.

"She's our lady," Jameson corrected, "and I merely told her that it was a collaborative discussion. I didn't expect our lord to be so sensitive over a woman's opinion." Leon shook his head angrily, his face so furious that it was beginning to turn red.

"You made her look like a fool!" Leon's voice rose.

"Or are you afraid that I made your lord look like a fool?" Jameson countered. Leon's mouth opened quickly but nothing came out. Jameson nodded his head towards Selene, taking advantage out of Leon's silence. "Be wary of this one, Leon. She's stronger than she looks." He then stepped around Leon bravely, walking into the doorway. Before he left her vision though, he tossed his head around his shoulder and met her eyes.

"They think that they're superior but they're just people, Selene. Don't let their crowns fool you." And then without a second glance, he walked away calmly. Leon was nearly shaking in anger when he turned back towards her.

" _You-_ "

"Get out." A new figure had walked into the doorway. Both Leon and Selene had turned towards the voice with a sharp exhale. Tobias was leaning against the frame casually, his crown now off his head. She met his eyes, which were no longer blazing but unexpectedly calm. Silence barred the room for a second, but then she nodded.

"Of course," she said. She went towards her closet, hoping to snag a coat before she was banished from his creepily beautiful home, until his voice stopped her again.

"I wasn't talking to you," he said irritably. She turned around, seeing as his eyes hit Leon's. "Leon, get out." Leon bowed his head.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to cross lines-"

"But you did. Now, get _out_." Leon, though grudgingly, walked through the doorway, casting Selene an angry look. Tobias's eyes glared at Leon threateningly and didn't tear his eyes away from his direction until she heard the front door of the mansion open and close with a slam. Her lord turned towards her again and immediately, her hands flew up in surrender.

"I'm leaving, alright?" She said, no longer caring about the tone in her voice. "No need to banish me or threaten to cut off my head." But Tobias merely gave her a smile as he closed the door. A chill went down her spine as he leaned against the closed door. She couldn't tell if he was leaning against it nonchalantly or if he was trying to block her exit. Either way, it made her squirm.

"Why is it every person I want to leave pick such a fight but the one person I don't want to leave is willing to leave so easily?" He chortled, a smile on his lips. She couldn't find the energy to smile back. He must have noticed the hard look on her face because he let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Look, Selene-"

"There are forty boys in my village," she said, her voice cracking as she took a step in his direction. " _Forty_. And the majority of them don't even know how to pick up a sword, yet you just basically ended their lives just so one of your council members would quit whining. How is that fair?" He tossed his head back, giving her a light, mirthless laugh.

"You really think I'm going to do that? You really think I'm following through with that promise?" He said, his palms out. "Selene, I do not plan on giving him those boys. Why in the world would I do that? War is coming and even if I wanted to, I can't waste a single Illyarian." She huffed.

"I doubt that," she scuffed, "you just promised a council member, a vow-"

"And I'm high lord," he growled. "I can change my mind any time I want, no matter what kind of _vow_ I give. Why do you think Leon was so determined to silence you? He knows that I don't plan on giving those boys away. You know what's going to happen? Bernard is going to go back to his pathetic town, go to his hut where his messengers are and right there waiting for him will be a signed letter of me changing my mind." Her eyebrows furrowed down.

"But you can't just fall back on your promises all the time. People won't trust you and therefore won't respect you. It'll make your reign weak-"

"Unless I give them food," he said, the hard look forming over his face again. "My land, the lands that are under my rule, are very _very_ cold. You should know how hard it is to get food. If I give him more food in return, there isn't anything he can say." She tilted her head.

"You use human necessities as a weapon?" She asked. He rose his chin.

"Yes," he said, his tone harsh, "That's how ruling works, beautiful Selene. You do awful things and you get great consequences. Anyone who argues with that is a damn fool." She waited for it to hit – the disgust to fill her body that the man she is married to, the man she is _mated_ with, has been practically starving his people for power. But it never hit. She realized quite suddenly, for the first time ever, she could care less about the rest of the world. She only had the ability, the capacity, to worry about her village.

"You won't touch those boys?" She asked again, her voice wobbly as she stepped closer to him. "Promise me. And not one of those fake promises. A real promise." His eyes were flashing up and down her, his nose flared.

"You demand a promise? I am your high lord. I don't have to promise you anything."

"And I am your wife. That's the one vow that you cannot break," she heard herself say. While his eyes flashed, anger rising in his face, he didn't move. He held her gaze tightly, so tightly that it was unnerving.

"I won't touch them until the war comes," he said gruffly. She stopped walking towards him, only a few feet away. He had looked away stiffly, turned towards one of her walls like meeting eyes with her would only make him lash out. He looked broken, she noticed. His eyes, dark as night, were hollow and cold and he didn't inch closer to her. But then his eyes looked down, finding her gaze. They were dark, yes, but they had some emotion to them. Mostly anger, but there was something else. It was so twisted into the darkness that she couldn't figure it out. At least not now.

"Thank you," she whispered, her words falling into the world emptily. It didn't seem to catch him, as he didn't seem swayed by the gratitude. It was beyond him, she realized.

"Don't ever say thank you to me," he reminded her, his voice sharp. Though her eyebrows were furrowed down, she nodded. Her eyes flickered towards the window quickly. It was bright outside, cold but bright.

"What were you talking about earlier?" Tobias interrupted, clearing his throat. "If I may ask? You know, about those _marriage activities_?" She flushed quickly, waving her hand.

"Don't worry about it," she said, nervously. "It was just-it's nothing." But he shook his head.

"Your village was barbaric, Selene," he told her, "I don't want you thinking that I would ever agree with any of their traditions. They treat each other like scum and treat their women even worse. Whatever they make you do, whatever a woman has to do to prove their marriage bond, is not something you have to do here. I will never ask you to do it." Her eyebrows flicked up.

"You don't want heirs?" And then her look of surprise reflected back at her, as the stern look on Tobias's face vanished instantly.

"What do you mean heirs?" He asked, snarling the word. "Wait, have you been talking…" And then she felt her whole body warm with embarrassment, quickly realizing that they were certainly not on the same page.

"Sex," she managed to say. "I thought it was a universal tradition. Having sex the night of, I mean, and since we didn't exactly have time because we only got back here at day break, I didn't know if…" But then he bellowed. Not a cruel laughter, or a mirthless slaughter, but a truly humored string of laughs that rang around her room joyfully. She crossed her arms across her chest awkwardly until his laughs died out.

"Sex," he said back, "you've been talking about _sex_? I've been dodging that question all day thinking that I'd have to do something ridiculous like cut off one of your nipples for purity sacrifice or burn your vagina with an iron. I didn't know you were talking about sex." But when he noticed the stone-like look on her face, he stopped laughing. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, failing to hide his suppressed smirk.

"No," he replied, "sex isn't…despite my relations with Rosalie, I do believe that sex is intimate, at least to an extent. It shouldn't be forced. And I know…" His eyes scanned her body wistfully, not bothering to hide his lust while he analyzed her every feature.

"I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want me, and despite me being the most powerful person in the world, I know you still aren't comfortable," he said, honestly. "And heirs…that is an entirely different topic for an entirely different time." She considered arguing, insisting that she owed it to him, but she ended up nodding.

"I just need time, my lord."

"Tobias," he corrected sharply. "My name is Tobias. It will always be Tobias to you, Selene." He began to walk towards her this time, only stopping when she could feel his breath on her face. Her eyes fell to the ground quickly.

"I know you are not fully ready but may I at least kiss you, Selene?" She heard him ask, and there was a crack at the end of his words. She looked up at him again, blinking. But then she saw how is body, when she hesitated, had stiffened. He cleared his throat deeply, tipping back on his heels. It looked like, for just a moment, like he was choking. Her hand went out towards him instantly, grabbing onto his body.

"Tobias, your face. You're losing color. Are you-"

"I asked if I could kiss you, Selene," He reminded her, his words nearly a demand, "May I-" But then she leaned up on her tippy toes and met his lips with hers. She expected it to be cold, just like his tone, but instead his lips were burning. Like he was alive, for just that one kiss. And as he pressed further, pulling her to him, she could feel his heartbeat pulse through his lips. She could feel everything about him - how his gruff hands too hold of her, how his lean body leaned against hers, how he refused to breathe until she let go. He wasn't cold and cruel like she had thought. He was like fire and ice. He was too passionate to be merciful.

When she opened her eyes again, he was looking at her like she was everything he had been searching for.

"I want to give you everything, Selene. But I don't have everything. Not right now, at least," he said with a sigh. "I know I am not easy to love, I know it's difficult to understand me. But you, _you_ will never be a victim of my cruelty. You will never be hurt by me. If you just give me one chance, one shot." And as she looked at him, someone who she knew didn't deserve forgiveness. She wasn't niave - there was a reason why people feared him. Someone who had probably killed a load of innocent people, who had been unfair to many. But as she thought about it, as her lips still pulsed from his warmth, she found that she didn't care. She needed someone who used their power, who punished people like Hunter.

"As long as you understand that my wings, my wings will never be removed no matter who demands it," she said back. He didn't smile at her but she saw the happiness in his eyes, the exhilaration.

"A deal's a deal," he said.

~discidium~

I apologize greatly that I haven't posted in a while. I need some reviews in order to keep this coming though. Any opinions?


	5. Chapter 5

As the hours turned to days and the days turn to weeks, the old Selene had vanished. It wasn't that living at the Night Court became easier – it just changed her. She had grown closer to both Leon and her husband, making it easier to mold into their world. She learned that she wasn't good at blatantly trusting the people around her, but she also learned how to voice her opinion without causing conflict. Leon had, to say the least, became friends with her and her relationship with Tobias had almost, just almost, grown intimate. She began to learn that Tobias was right – he was not a good man, but he certainly wasn't a bad one. He was hard to read initially, but she found that he had a thousand faces if she looked hard enough. They had many things in common, such as their love for the outdoors and their liking to read. When she stopped during their hiking trails she would always pick out herbs in habit, and he never said a word about it. He had a sense of humor, she found, though sometimes it was hard to detect. After watching a performance in the local village, he typically had the same opinions as she did and he had a habit of watching her reactions even in the simplest of situations. And when the sunlight dimmed and Leon excused himself awkwardly, Tobias and her discovered themselves in more than just an emotional manner. No sex, of course, but intimate all the same.

"Selene, darling," a voice rang one morning. She was dressed comfortably – a light gown that flowed to her ankles, and slippers with no heels. Half of her flowing, blonde hair was pulling back and the rest of it was in curls. She walked through the doorway, which had been left open from the night before, and went to the railing that looked over the story below them. Tobias looked up at her, his face blank. Though he was under her, she felt like he was still toppling over her, as if his power could reach to the skies.

"I'm almost ready," she said, "I promise." And she _was_ almost ready. In her hand she had a small pack – a few dresses, toiletries, basic necessities. There was even a book sneaked in there in case she got bored. Quickly, as Tobias's eyes watched her, she hurried down to the floor he was on.

"You're only taking an eon," he drawled, beckoning her as he directed her to another staircase – the staircase that would lead them to the main entrance far quicker than the staircase she originally went down. He had easily snagged the bag from her hand, though she had told him many times before that she, a female Illyarian, was perfectly capable of holding onto her own luggage. Nonetheless, he still insisted on doing so.

"Can you even tell me where we're going?" Selene said, rushing out the front door. "Tobias, I-" And then her pace slowed. In front of them were two large carriages hooked together, with the first carriage already open for them to hop into.

"We're going to the place I was raised," Tobias said, throwing the luggage into the second carriage – which was loaded with many different packs already. He opened the door for the first carriage, beckoning her in. "My home town." She stepped into the carriage, clearly confused as she sat down across from her husband.

"Okay, okay," she breathed. "But why don't we just winnow there now and our luggage can arrive later? Why are we taking a carriage for Cauldron's sake?" And then, as if the Cauldron had heard her question, the door of the carriage swung open.

"Because you're taking a cripple and cripples don't exactly winnow that well," Leon said suddenly. He slid into the carriage, sitting next to Tobias. Her eyebrows knitted down.

"But you never come," she said aloud. He gave her a thin-lipped smile as the carriage jolted forward.

"There are some people that owe me money," he explained. "Plus, there are a few girls that I wouldn't mind goin- _running_ into." Even Tobias snickered at this. She turned towards him, her eyebrows knitted down.

"And 'home town'? Are you telling me you weren't raised here?" _Here_ as in the magnificent, village-sized castle that she still had a hard time believing was actually real. Leon huffed, leaning his elbow on the side of the carriage.

"Trust me, it was better off that we were raised far away," Leon muttered. Tobias, by the look on his face, clearly agreed.

"We lived here off and on," Tobias grumbled. "I guess we just…were more useful elsewhere." And she knew that right now, that was all she was going to learn about the situation. Though she was more curious, Tobias and Leon were very quiet about their early life. Neither of them, for whatever reason, had ever talked about their childhood and whenever she asked, they quickly deflected her questions. But she remembered the flashes that she had seen on their wedding night – the merciless, terrifying anger that she had seen in Tobias when he was a teenager. She didn't doubt that it must have been bad.

"Talking about shitty people, this envelope is for you," Leon said, holding out an envelope. Selene coiled up, looking at the crisp, white envelope. Tobias's nostrils flared at it. She looked between them.

"What is it?" She asked, not daring to reach for it.

"An envelope," Leon repeated slowly, clipping each word slowly. "For _you._ Presumably from your village." She looked at Tobias.

"I know what it is, but what's in it?" She asked the both of them. "Surely at least one of you have already read it." This made Tobias smirk.

"This isn't the Spring Court, beautiful," Tobias said. "We aren't afraid of mail." She rolled her eyes, taking the envelope finally.

"It's just been…so long since I've left."

Six weeks to be exact. _Six whole weeks_ , and not a single word. It wasn't sadness that burrowed in her stomach though – she never expected them to speak to her ever again. After the days went by, and all she recalled was the anger that filled their eyes, she stopped thinking about them entirely. She almost forgot they even existed. There was nothing that pulled her to the envelope, not a single thing. Instead, it was dread. Why write her now? Why wait so long, so many weeks, to speak to her? If it was about a family death, there would be no reason to message her because she had most likely been disowned. She wouldn't be surprised if it was Petyr, demanding payment for the death of his son, though Petyr was too much of a coward to demand something from a High Lord. And what if it was her parents, simply telling her that she was a disgrace?

"You don't have to open it," Tobias drawled. _She didn't_. She could simply refuse to open it and they would never know.

"What if they want me back?" She heard herself say, her voice quivering. "What if they're willing to-to make a deal with you just so they can cut off my-" He grabbed her arm suddenly, stopping her words jerkily. She looked up into his dark eyes. And they were not merciful.

"I was honest when I told you that I would burn the whole damn place down," He told her, his eyes not falling from her gaze. "I'll protect you with my life, Selene. And that includes your wings." And with that, the words of the most powerful man on the map, she realized she had to open it. She couldn't be who she was, the wife of a dangerous High Lord, and be afraid of a stupid letter. They couldn't touch her, and they needed to know that.

She tore it open, breathing in one deep breath before she read it. Even though they pretended not to, Tobias and Leon hovered over her to read as well.

 _Dear Selene,_

 _Since your departure to service yourself to the High Lord of Night,_

"Service yourself? That's how they speak of our Lady?!" Leon growled. Selene, on the other hand, continued reading.

 _we believed that it was appropriate to update you on your standings in our village. While you and the High Lord of Night are always welcome to visit, all of you belongings and inheritance, including your dowry, has been transferred to your eldest sister._

"Wow, if I had only known you had a dowry, I would've jumped at the opportunity," Tobias said flatly. She looked up at him, blinking for a moment, until she realized he was joking and gave a small smile.

 _We would also like to remind you that if you were ever to be given back to our village, you will be held at trial for disobeying our sacred laws. Aside from that, we would like to formally congratulate you and your marriage to the High Lord. We would also like to bring to your attention that, due to your sudden possession of our lands, we have added numerous laws since your departure. For one, we have agreed that any woman who commits adultery with a married man will be punished by the family of the man she is committing adultery with. Secondly, any woman who still possesses her wings by the time she is thirteen, whether her womanhood has begun or not, will have her wings cut off. Thirdly, we would like to remind you that though you have legal rights to own or restrict our land appointed by the High Lord, a woman does not have the power to change or fight against our laws due to our cultural bounds._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Petyr Pramytha_

Selene was dangerously quiet. Even Leon didn't say anything after she finished the letter. Tobias waited. She didn't know if he was plotting in his head or if he was giving her the time to think – to digest.

"Selene," he started to say softly but before he could finish the sentence, she took the letter and ripped. She ripped it into tiny, tiny pieces, letting it fall to the bottom of the carriage and not stopping until it was mere shreds. If she had been given the letter two months prior, she would've cried. She would've rushed over there and begged. She would've pleaded and gone on her knees. But she was the Lady of the Night Court and she didn't go on her knees for anybody.

"I'll do something about it, Selene. I'll send over troops – fuck, I'll go over there myself and deal with Petyr. I won't tolerate this treachery." She looked up at Tobias. The anger in his eyes were gone. Instead, there was desperation. Sympathy. Maybe he was testing her heart, maybe he was pitying her for their actions. The letter was clearly a retaliation for humiliating them and, thankfully, he knew the toll it took on her.

"No," she said firmly, "These are just words. They- _he_ isn't actually going to do it." But deep down, she wasn't sure. Petyr was smarter than to challenge the High Lord but what about the Lady of the Night Court? He treated females like they were a completely different species. In his mind, there was quite a difference. And she knew that he saw her defiance as a call for war.

~*~ discidium ~*~

When they got to the town, only a few hours later, the letter had disappeared from the conversation. Majority of the ride was spent with Leon making inappropriate jokes and Tobias snarling dark insults. Selene was quiet, trying her best not to think of her former village. She tried not to think of her family and what they said, or didn't say, about her. She tried not to think of the drunken men sneering later, jeering about how long the High Lord will keep her in his bed before she gets replaced. And she surely didn't try thinking about her wings and how Petyr would chop them off as soon as he had the opportunity.

No, she tried not to think about any of those things at all.

"Don't look too excited, Selene," Leon said sarcastically. She looked over at him, blinking. And then she finally looked at their surroundings. If she wasn't in such a sour mood, she would have been marveled. There was a range of cottages, mixed between different shops and pubs. Each doorstep was a large blue lantern that gave out blue halos. To her, it looked at what a village _should_ look like. Homey, beautiful. With cobblestoned streets and the sky that bounced off the various carriages parked along the street. Its architecture romanticized the village-life by making it vibrant with life and light. But because of those things, because she knew better about what a common village really was, she wasn't impressed. Instead, it angered her.

"Yeah, it's great," she said coolly, causing Leon to blink rapidly. As she stepped out of the carriage, grabbing onto the nearest hand that would help her down the carriage, though she certainly didn't need it.

"Did I say something?" Leon said behind her. He muttered to someone else, "I told you she was _too_ perfect. What if she turns into a troll or something at night and you'll never know because she refuses to-" Selene swerved around sharply, catching Leon leaning towards Tobias. Tobias's face was blank, though she could he had been snickering. Leon shrunk back, slowly leaning away.

"I think you actually managed to piss her off," Tobias said in awe, blinking as he turned back to Leon, "I thought you'd never be able to do it."

"It didn't work when I pushed her down the stairs. _Purposely_."

"And that one time when you intentionally ripped the hem her favorite dress because you wanted to see how useful it would be to give to one of your mistresses."

"Oi! Or that one time I caused her horse to throw her five feet into the air and land in an ant pile!"

"Wait, you fucking didthat on purpose?"

"If only we had known it would only take a long carriage ride to get perfect-never-unhappy Lady Selene to get mad," Leon chortled on, "Oh, look, Tobias. It's _the_ cobblestone. Remember? The one that you used to measure your pe-" Before he could finish his sentence, she rose her foot and slammed it down to the ground so hard that the helpers around her shuddered back. Tobias blinked, his eyes wide for just a moment.

"Did you just-" Leon was trying to hide his snicker, but clearly failed as his words stopped and he covered his mouth quickly. Tobias's face, still clear from emotion, masked his obvious amusement, and he asked, "Did you just _stomp_ at us? Stomp? Like a-"

"Three year old?" Leon said, choking back on laughter. Her eyes nailed onto her husband coldly.

"I did just stomp at you, Tobias. Because if I could do anything more," she glanced around them, taking notice of the many people on the street. Out of courtesy, majority of the commoners were pretending to be elsewhere but she knew, if she did anything more than stomp, it would cause commotion. "Then all these poor people would watch you fall on your royal ass and the two more powerful men in this goddamn world will be on their knees due to a small, angry Illyrian girl. _Do you want that_?" Leon's mouth formed a nice circle and Tobias had lost the joking persona and instead looked cold as ice. He pointed his chin up.

"You would not-I would not have…" And then Tobias was looking her over, his eyebrows furrowing down as if he didn't even know what he was registering. But then his eyes flickered and a victorious smile stretched across his face. "Oh, look, we have friends." Serene turned her body, a snarl on her lips, but when she saw what was in front of her, her entire face dropped.

"Oh, _hello_." About six or seven girls stood in front of her in a tight line, smiling brightly. They were, to say the least, extremely attractive. Some had thick curls that bounced to their chest, others had straight hair that swept their face perfectly. They were all wearing a buttoned up, white fur coat. Despite their physical differences, they all appeared identical for a reason Selene couldn't detect. They barely even looked human. They were so glittered up, smiling the identical flawless smile, that they reminded Selene of dolls. Porcelain, perfect dolls.

"Tobias," she whispered desperately between the fake smile she reflected back to the girls, "Why are all these girls smiling at me?" She felt Tobias's firm hand curve over her shoulder blade. There was no sympathy when he touched her – it was like he was throwing her to the wolves.

"Why, because they like you, Selene," Tobias said, the humor leaking into his voice. But then Leon said at the same time, "And they like the idea of being in your bed, if you know what I mean." Her mouth went ajar as she swiveled towards Leon. Tobias had a small smirk but Leon – he was actually laughing.

"They want to slee-"

"We would like to congratulate you," one said. She turned to the line again, looking at the one in the middle – the blonde one who had spoken. Normally Selene would automatically accept their congratulations but Leon's words stayed with her.

"My name is Ella," the girl next to her said, a dark brunette. "We heard you were lacking a lady in waiting. We all-" She looked at the girls around her, and they all giggled in unison. "Would be honored to serve you." Selene's large eyes looked at Tobias for an explanation.

"Ladies in waiting…they…" Tobias was struggling to not laugh. "They are supposed to be the Lady's closest friends. You know, be there for casual things since it's difficult for a High Lord's wife to have every day friends. They do luncheons, getting their Lady prepared for the day, writing letters in her name, bathing her, meeting dietary needs, preparing for marital activities."

"And fucking the High Lord," Leon muttered. Selene's eyes went wide and Tobias gave him a pointed look.

"It's…infamous for them to bed the High Lord when the Lady cannot, despite how classless it may appear," Tobias said carefully, though his tone was dry with disinterest.

"And did Father take advantage out of that," Leon grumbled.

"I don't want that," Selene objected fast. "I don't want someone to clothe me and bathe me and treat me like some sort of…some sort of…" She looked at the girls and despite her voice being plenty audible, none of their smile's had moved. "some sort of _doll_."

"I wouldn't write them off," Tobias said evenly, one of his eyebrows up, "they can be quite amusing. I mean, of course not for my needs, but being a Lady can be quite a bore according to my mother. Go on, pick one if you'd like." And once again, she looked around at the girls. Though none of them had twitched, they looked like they were going to explode in excitement. They were all around her age, seemed to be at least nice, but what for? What do they get out of helping her? Wealth? A husband? Though Selene was a complete advocate for women, she did not want fake friends. She did not want to have people prepare her baths, laughing at her bad jokes, pretending that they liked her when really it was for materialistic ends.

"No," Selene said sharply, not even watching as all the girls' smiles dropped. "I want to go elsewhere."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Leon wasn't joking when he said that he had things to do. Right after Selene had dismissed herself from the girls, he ran off without a word. Selene glanced up at her husband, expecting to meet his glance, but his eyes were elsewhere. He was analyzing everything – every brick on every house, every child running around, and every couple who were holding hands.

"What are you looking for?" Selene finally said softly. He didn't answer her at first, was only silent as he looked around. And even when he did respond, he didn't look down to meet eyes.

"You're asking the wrong questions, Selene. _What_ would be merciful, _what_ would be unlethal, _what_ would be easy," he said in a low voice. "The question is why. Who." And just like that, he was staring at a silhouette from across the cobbled street. The shadow was approaching them slowly and with the daylight beginning to disappear, it wasn't until he was five feet away did Selene glimpse his face.

"High Lord," a voice cracked. Tobias took a rapid step towards him. The man was clearly familiar because Tobias flashed a smile immediately – but not the friendly kind. The other man, tall and thick like an ox, stood with his hands behind his back. Selene noticed how the man looked her up and down curiously, and she could feel her cheeks heat up when he took notice of the wings tightly folded to her back, but he said nothing as he looked back at the High Lord.

"Let's skip formalities, Warren," Tobias replied dryly. "Tell me, when you started child slavery did you tell yourself you were saving them or were you honest that it was all economics?" Something twitched on Warren's face, just a flicker.

"I didn't think you cared about my-"

"Slavery makes my kingdom look vulnerable," Tobias growled. "Beron and his brothers are laughing at us."

"And when did Beron's family become important? He's not even High Lord yet. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if a tree fell on him and he didn't make it through the week," Warren said with a laugh. But Tobias did not laugh. His nose was flared, his shoulders pushed back tightly.

"When I decided that I was going to take over this globe, Warren." Warren didn't register his words at first, and neither did Selene. Take over the globe? Conquer everything? Have one large kingdom? Selene could only watch as she saw Warren's once tense face look overwhelmed with confliction.

"T-take over the globe? My lord, that is-"

"Do you not think I can do it?" Tobias said rapidly, taking a step with his hands tucked into his pockets. And though Warren was taller, maybe even bigger, he shrunk back. "What are you saying, Warren? Are you calling me weak?" Warren's eyes widened.

"No, High Lord," Warren said, and Selene was marveled about how fast Tobias could make a militaristic leader beg. "I just-"

"I don't think anyone here would disagree," Tobias interrupted. He swung his head towards Selene. "Do you disagree, my love? No, of course you don't disagree because everybody in this town, including my wife who has been here for a total of fifteen minutes, can tell that I'm absolutely terrifying, Warren." Warren's surprised look had vanished and he was still as stone.

"What about," he said slowly, glancing around quickly, " _Velaris_? I thought that was our project. That was everything – for generations. That is what this village is modeled after, what our dreams are supposed to-"

"And what if we can make everything Velaris, Warren?" Tobias asked. Selene's eyebrows knitted down. _Velaris?_ She had never heard of it. Or at least, Tobias had never brought it up.

"Of course that's an ideal approach but, High Lord…"

"Did you know that there's a man in another lands called King Hybern, Warren?" The look on Warren's face flushed.

"I have heard of the name," he said slowly. Tobias paced around him in a circle, like a predator hunting for food.

"A dunce, he is. Laughable, to say the least," Tobias said, giving a little scoff. "I'm sure you have heard of his preaches, his worthless babbling. But, he does have a point." Warren wasn't registering it. No, he wasn't registering it at all.

"That we should scavenge every mortal in the world and enslave them?"

"No, that the Cauldron made us for a reason. Sure, yes, that simple King may think that reason is to conquer mortals, but I believe that the Cauldron created us to be ruled by one High Lord, not many. That the reason Cauldron exists, and why we have reproduced for so long, is because its whole purpose was to make the ultimate Lord. _Me_." There was a silence. A cold, cruel silence. And while Tobias was expecting a rapid answer, Selene didn't blame Warren for hesitating.

"I'll release the slaves immediately," he said, his eyes wide. Her High Lord smiled at him, showing his sharp teeth.

"Goodnight then, Warren. I'll contact you soon," Tobias said. Selene, as Tobias looked back at her, had a thousand questions on her lips. Taking over? Hybern? Velaris? But she couldn't find the will to open her mouth. So she let Tobias grab her small hand into his giant calloused hands.

"Come on, let's find Leon so that we can leave before day break," Tobias said.

 _~*~ Discidium ~*~_

They found Leon at a pub. When they walked inside, still overcome with silence, they spotted Leon at the bar. He was swinging his jug of mead around, talking loudly amongst the crowd. A small smile appeared on Tobias's face.

"And now I see why he was okay with not being High Lord," Selene said. Tobias looked at her, confusion filling his eyes.

"What does that mean?" He said, leading her to a table. She would've stopped the conversation if not for the lack of attention. Nobody acknowledged them when they walked in, as if the pub itself was a safe bubble where Leon and Tobias were nothing more than regular fae.

"He likes this," she pointed out. "Laughing, being one of them. He doesn't want to stand out. He'd be perfectly fine with his title ripped away from him and just living like a normal fae." Tobias laughed at this, sipping on his mead as he shook his head.

"I'm not sure if he'd be okay with his entire title being ripped away from him," Tobias countered. "But you're right, I don't think he'd enjoy the sacrifices. I think he likes the freedom." Selene was looking over him now, looking at everything Tobias was. Cold, stiff. But with values, values she didn't quite understand.

"Was it a hard fight?" She said, her voice soft. "Becoming High Lord? Did he even try to fight you?" His smile has dropped, a flicker of sadness. He looked away for a moment, starring at the mead.

"He fought at first," he said. "Once my father died, and he felt nothing happen, he felt nothing…shifting. So he tried. But I had him pinned to a wall with a knife at his throat before he could ever take a second breath."

"And you would've done it? Kill him, that is?" Selene asked carefully. He swallowed and paused for a moment, as if for once Tobias was struggling to keep his sins inside him.

"I felt the shift," he replied. "I _felt_ it. It was like the Cauldron chose me before I could even decide. It didn't matter if Leon was alive – the Cauldron didn't care. So, yes, I would have if he didn't back down. But the moment the knife was at his neck, and he knew I had the capability to do it, he begged me. He promised to the Cauldron he'd never fight me, never fight for the crown. So I spared him and he became my Emissary."

"And your future children, then?" She asked. "They'll be different now that you have become a High Lord like no other. Doesn't that bother you that now the laws of nature has been turned, that your future children may not be heirs? Or that now your heir cannot be predicted by strength? They'll be different."

"Heirs," he repeated, laughing, as if the word itself was absolutely absurd. She was beginning to become immune to his chilling laughter, his mockery. But with every laugh, more curiosity spun in her stomach.

"Heirs make you weak," he told her, each word clipped sharply. "Lords obsess over having heirs, even to the extent of executing their wives if they do not conceive fast enough, but heirs are simply vulnerabilities. You don't need heirs if your land is strong. We, _I_ , am immortal. Relying on a child that results in your death makes you a target." She scooted closer to him, her head cocked to the side.

"And so that's it? You'll just never have children?" It didn't come off angry. Personally, she didn't care if she had children. She was neutral about it. She had compassion for children, yes, but the thought of it still made her ill. But the information was vital because, if he didn't have children, what else was her purpose in his court?

"Maybe one day," he said, taking a deep breath. "But not like how I was made. I was utilized by my father, trained from birth to compete for High Lord. It ruined what should've been his first priority." She nodded slowly, digesting his words.

"But your land is strong," she said, countering him. "He didn't ruin it." But then the Tobias's eyes flashed darkly. She saw something in them - maybe, for just a second, the reason he was so angry.

"You think when I say first priority that I mean his land - The Night Court," Tobias said, "But that shouldn't have been his first priority."

"What should have been his first priority then? You say having heirs were unimportant and that his land, what he breathed for, wasn't supposed to be his first priority. Then what is a High Lord's first priority?" His eyes widened, growing closer to her. His hand, rough from scars and calluses from years of fighting, stroked her soft cheek. He gave her a slight smile, a smile that didn't comfort her.

"That's not of your worries," he told her. "Do not worry about that, beautiful Selene." Selene's mouth was open, an objection on her lips, but then someone slung an arm over her neck and she inhaled an overload of what smelled like mead. She looked up and saw Leon hanging over her. She mustered a smile.

"Having fun then, Leon?" She asked. He smiled back.

"Oh, I haven't even gotten started," he said. "We-"

"Are leaving before starlight ends," Tobias finished coolly. "I know we were meant to spend a few days here but it's time to leave." Even Selene's face dropped when he said that.

"But Tobes, we just got here. Look at the alcohol, the ladies – oh, sorry, Selene. But really, we just arrived in this godsend of a town. What about all the luggage we brought?" Leon said, nearly drooling. Tobias put down his drink and stood up.

"I came here to talk to Warren and that was it," Tobias said. "And if I stay here, he'll think too much about his agreement to free the children. Plus, I'd rather not have to find a place to stay the night. Now, come on." Despite Leon's objections, Tobias led the way out of the pub and they traveled underneath the colorful stars. It was more than once that Selene had to stop Leon from hitting the glowing lanterns that shined at each doorstep.

"Don't bother," Tobias said, his voice slightly agitated. "Let him run into them. It's not like he has many brain cells left anyways." And though she scowled, he took her hand lovingly as Leon began to sing amongst the street. Many people were still out, snickering at him as they passed by.

"Wait," Leon said suddenly, stopping outside a pub. He was looking at it longingly. Tobias took a step towards him with a snarl.

"Leon, I know you are piss-head drunk, but there is no way in hell that you are going back to a damn pub-"

"Rosalie," Leon said softly. Both Selene and Tobias looked at what Leon was staring at and she could feel Tobias tense when he saw it. When she caught what they were looking at, confusion swept over her.

"That's Rosalie," she whispered. _Rosalie._ It was hard to depict her at first because the pub was overflowing with people but sure enough Rosalie was in there, trying rigorously to seduce older men. She was wearing a red, glittery piece of cloth that only covered her boobs and a see-through skirt that had long slits at the sides. Golden ringlets ran up and down her arms and Selene had forgotten how luscious her red curls were. She was giving a lap dance to a drunken man. All the other men around him were laughing hysterically, despite her stunning beauty, and she acted completely oblivious to it.

"Why is she here?" Selene asked. Leon winced at the sight, as if seeing her here was just as painful for him to witness as it was for Selene to register the scene.

"This is where she lives," Tobias replied. "This is where we met her." Selene's mouth went slightly ajar.

"You knew her before you became High Lord?" She blurted. "But, I always assumed she was professionally taught to be your mistress. I always thought it was, well, her career. Not to be working as some whore at a pub." It wasn't entirely farfetched – many people would scout Illyarian villages for beautiful girls in order to teach them how to seduce and become mistresses to higher fae.

"Rosalie was more than just a piece of candy – though she did act like it when she walked around naked," Leon said, snorting. "She was a friend, Selene. We've known her since we were children. She had lived with us, laughed with us. She is no longer needed in the court, and it was far past her time to leave, but do not disregard her as something bad. Everything she is, she is for a reason." Tobias watched her carefully, trying to find a reaction on her face. Her eyebrows knitted down curiously, but again Rosalie's previous relation to her new family didn't bother her. If anything, it only made her turn towards Tobias.

"Why did you cast her out then?" She asked him, remembering his abrupt fit he had the day Selene arrived at his estate. He shrugged dismissively, rolling his eyes.

"As Leon said, she should've left way before I dismissed her," he agreed. "She was close to us both but if she wasn't a mistress, what would be her position at my court? What would be my excuse to keep her? Because she's my _friend_?" Selene's crystal-like eyes followed his gaze, watching the young girl. The last time she had seen her, she was infuriated. She felt like it should be Rosalie in her place, not her. But now that she looked at her now, falling on drunken men's laps, holding a too-tight smile on her face, Selene saw how Rosalie wasn't made to be a Lady. Even if she stopped being flirtatious and left her mistress days behind her, Selene saw the scars on her body, the natural sex appeal that would cause her to be disrespected.

"We should probably go," Tobias said, clearing his throat. But just as they began to walk away from the pub, Selene caught Rosalie's eye. Rosalie's smile dropped for just a moment and her body froze, but not even a second later Rosalie had turned away and was back to touching her client. As if she had never even locked eyes with her.

~*~ discidium ~*~

The carriages weren't far off, but the walk seemed unbearable. Though it wasn't snowing when they left the pub, snowflakes started to stir in the air as they walked across the town. Both of the boys had the appropriate clothes but Selene's dress, thin and flimsy, she might as well have been naked.

"I told you to wear comfortable clothes," Tobias scowled, wrapping his arms around her as she shivered.

"I thought you meant flexible clothes," she said, swinging her head towards him. "You never told me it would snow-"

"It's the Night Court. It _always_ snows at night," Tobias said, shaking his head at her as if she had lost her mind. "You lived in a village, Selene. You should know this."

"You told me to wear comfortable clothes!" Selene repeated. "Plus, my village is far more north."

" _We are still in the Night Court_!" Tobias exclaimed. "Anyways, does it really matter? Look, we are almost to the carriages, Selene." Selene rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Well maybe next time, tell me to pack a damn blank-"

"Oh my Cauldron," Leon interrupted, stopping behind them. Both Tobias and Selene swung around. Behind them, not too far off, a figure was running towards them. As she got closer, Selene depicted who it was.

It was Rosalie, with the clothes she was still wearing on but a dark red, velvet blanket wrapped around her. She wasn't even wearing shoes. Leon's face looked stricken but Tobias – he was slightly pulling Selene away.

"It's nice to see you, Rosalie, but we best be going," Tobias said coolly. Leon, on the other hand, was frozen. Tobias, growling, took a step towards Leon and grabbed the back of his shirt, making him blink. He looked at Tobias and then back at Rosalie. Slowly, he began walking backwards as well.

"You're here, you're both really here," Rosalie's voice broke, tears forming in her eyes. Tobias looked away coldly and Leon winced.

"We just came to…do some errands," Leon said dismissively. "We weren't meant to stay long."

"Come have a drink with me," Rosalie said. There was desperation in her voice. "I never thought I'd see you again. You both look good – not that I expected any less. And…you, you look beautiful." It took a moment for Selene to register that Rosalie was talking to her. She blinked at her rapidly before responding. She escaped from Tobias's grip and took a step towards her.

"Oh, well, thank you. That's-" Tobias yanking at her hand, making her trip back. The carriage was waiting but Rosalie, bundled tightly in her velvet red blanket, was still walking towards them. The boys were doing their best to make distance between them and Rosalie.

"Don't you want to know how I've been?" Rosalie said. "It's been good here. I can show you around! It hasn't changed much, Manny still works the bar and Patricia…" But they weren't listening. Instead they were hustling towards the carriages.

"Tobias," Selene hissed, her eyes unable to look away from Rosalie. She looked like she was breaking, slowly breaking. And yet, Tobias wouldn't even listen.

"Get in," Tobias demanded, opening the door to the carriage roughly. Selene looked at him tightly.

"We can't just-"

"I'm not going to say it again, Selene," Tobias spat. " _Get in_." Was this what his guilt was like? Did it come out in anger? Ferociousness? Selene went in obediently, trying to pretend she hadn't heard Tobias's demanding tone. But her eyes were still latched onto the beautiful redhead. Tobias scooted in beside her, pushing her further into the carriage as if doing so would break her attention from Rosalie. But she hovered over him, watching the pitiful girl from the window.

"Leon," Rosalie said, begging now. Leon didn't turn to look at her. Instead, he continued into the carriage, not a single emotion on his face. Neither of the boys, as they sat down, looked outside the carriage but Selene couldn't tear her eyes away. Rosalie, wrapped in her blanket tightly, looked so tiny. So vulnerable. Like her.

"Wait!" Selene screeched as the cart began to move. It stopped jerkily. Tobias upper lip curled up in surprise and Leon shook his head at her fast, his eyes wide. But she was not the girl that she was when she first walked into the castle – not now, not ever. She sat up straighter, leaning towards Tobias.

"I want her," she said. Tobias snorted at her.

"And what would we do with her, Selene?" Tobias said, laughing coldly. "Keep her for charity?" Leon's jumped to both of them fast, as if he knew how badly this could end if she lost the argument.

"You offered me a lady in waiting, yes?" She asked. Tobias squinted at her.

"You want my old whore to be your lady in waiting?" He repeated mockingly, cruelty lurking in his words. She nodded.

"Yes, I do," she said. "I want her _now._ " Tobias's sneer didn't twitch as he looked at her, his tight glare not dropping.

"Fine, then," he said flatly. "Rosalie, get in here." At first Rosalie's solemn face contorted, her mouth slightly ajar.

"What?" Rosalie breathed. Tobias turned towards her, his eyes far from friendly.

"Apparently, my wife wants you to be a lady in waiting," Tobias growled, not without shooting Selene a look. Selene smiled at him in return. "So get in the damn carriage behind us. And Leon-" Leon sighed exaggeratedly. "Go to the other carriage with her. And no, I don't care how much luggage there is."

~*~ discidium ~*~

 **Wow, that was a long chapter. It's been a while since I've posted on here, so I thought to update one of my stories! Please review and tell me if you'd like to read more! It's summer so I'll probably update fairly fast if you give me the motivation. Also, I'd highly recommend some of my other stories if you like my writing. My more popular fanfics that have to do with ACOTAR is A Mate's Sin (A "what if" story if Rhys had taken at the end of the first book), A Crisp of Spring (a post-acowar story about Tamlin rebuilding his lands with the unexpected Jurian at his side), and a Wind of Whisps and Shadows (a post-acowar centering around Azriel and his estranged biological brother). AGAIN, PLS REVIEW (also I made a bajillion mistakes in here because I'm too lazy to edit so please forgive me)**


	6. Chapter 6

Once Selene and her new family made it back to the estate, she had a feeling in her stomach that she couldn't quite place. Tobias hadn't spoken a word to her the entire ride back and Leon, who she missed terribly during the carriage ride, was nowhere to be seen. Rosalie, on the other hand, was at her side instantly and had even bothered to follow her up the stairs, insisting that she help her with her bags. Of course, Selene said no. It wasn't until Selene made it to her door and she realized Rosalie was still behind her did she turn around fully.

"Are you alright?" Selene said finally. Rosalie looked at her, blinking. She could see why the boys liked her, Selene thought. Rosalie seemed a bit too comfortable with her situation, despite the fact that she practically sold herself to Selene's household. But Selene also took pity on her. Rosalie was still wearing her clothes from the bar and the velvet blanket was still wrapped around her tightly. There was a solemn look in her eyes, vulnerable and broken.

"I don't know where to sleep," Rosalie said emptily. "I've never stayed in any of the rooms. I always slept with…" But then she stopped suddenly, realizing who she was speaking with. Selene had stood up straighter, unsure how to respond.

"Pick whichever room you want," Selene said to her, forcing a smile. "We Illyarians believe first come, first serve. As long as it's empty, you can sleep there." After Rosalie gratefully picked the empty bedroom exactly across from hers, Selene walked into her bedroom and shut the door lightly. But as she took off her clothes and slipped into her bed, suddenly her eyes weren't heavy. What would it feel like to sleep in the High Lord's bed? She wondered. It was something she had never imagined. And as the thoughts began to cloud her mind, she realized that the feeling in her stomach was something she hadn't felt in a very long time - loneliness.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Her door opened with a bang.

"Do you need me to get you anything, My Lady?" Selene rubbed her eyes, squinting at the fiery redhead in the doorway.

"What time is it?" Selene groaned. Past her curtains she could see the sun begin to lighten the sky, and despite Selene's goal to not adopt a sedentary life style, she didn't see point of waking up before breakfast.

"The High Lord is yet to wake," Rosalie continued, "which means you need to get up."

"If he's still asleep then I'm still asleep," Selene told her before burying herself back into the blanket. But then, she heard the curtains open fully and the sunlight burst into the room so harshly that her eyelids had no choice but to open.

"Is there anything I can get you, My Lady?" Rosalie repeated loudly. Selene sat up in her bed sluggishly to take another look at Rosalie. While it was still early morning, she looked quite beautiful. Her curls weren't tangled or knotted, her face was already washed and she was wearing a beautiful cotton dress that would be perfect to wear on an early morning walk.

"Do you need help picking out clothes? Drawing you a bath? Bringing you breakfast?" Rosalie went on. Selene let out a sigh, fixing her nightgown sloppily.

"I told you that you don't have to worry about any of that, Rosalie," Selene said. "I can do all of that on my own." But Rosalie gave her a smile. Her lips were so red and perfectly shaped, with one end tipped up farther than the other. And her cheekbones - they were far more sharp and distinct than Selene's. The only thing Selene could possibly have that was better than her was her eyes, as Selene's was a far brighter blue compared to Rosalie's dark green. But even then, Selene couldn't help but wonder if picking Rosalie, who was so beautiful, was a bright idea or not.

But her thoughts stopped when sound of someone's large feet began down the hallway.

"Selene, guess what we have to fucking do tod-" The High Lord, half dressed and his hair just as sloppy as Selene's, stopped when he saw Rosalie in the doorway. She smiled at him brighter.

"Hello, My Lord," Rosalie said. The High Lord looked down at her for a moment, his dark eyes less than merciful, but then turned his attention to Selene. He glided around her new lady-in-waiting like she barely existed, like a piece of furniture he had never used. He didn't hesitate to join her in bed, wrapping his large arms around her comfortably, clearly making an unnecessary scene. Rosalie was still smiling at them - no, him.

"You can leave now," Tobias growled. Rosalie, her smile vanishing, disappeared rapidly. It wasn't until they could both hear her feet on the stairs did they turn to look at each other.

"If you're having this big of a self-esteem issue, you could've just gone to the nearest village and gave out gold coins to the starving children," Tobias muttered. "You didn't have to make her your lady-in-waiting and force the rest of us to share your undying hell. She's just going to get in your way." Selene gave him a small smile.

"I think she will be fitting here," Selene told him honestly. "I mean, it would help having some girls around the house." Tobias sat up straighter.

"Selene, two-thirds of the servants in this household are girls. If you wanted to talk to someone female, you can just order them to do it," Tobias reminded her. But Selene shook her head.

"It's different. I understand her. My best friend in my village was a whore for one of the higher Lords in a nearby village. She would come and go for weeks at a time. I understand that life, I get it," Selene said. Tobias's eyes narrowed on her.

"But that is your past. Now you're a Lady," Tobias reminded her. "You do not have to sympathize, or understand, whores." Selene leaned towards him, softly gripping one of his hands.

"Please, Tobias, let's stop talking about this nonsense," she pleaded. "She's only been here for a week. Once things get busier, you won't even see her."

"Well, good for me then that today we have visitors," Tobias muttered distastefully. "The High Lord of Spring, to be exact." Selene's eyebrows rose.

"You don't seem very happy about it," Selene noticed. His eyebrows went up, with a smirk filling his face.

"Why, beautiful Selene, would I not be happy about the dull, fearful High Lord of Spring visiting? It's not like he's ever achieved anything anyways," Tobias replied stingingly. Selene gave him a small smile.

"If he's such a waste of your time, Tobias, why bother?" She asked. As Tobias looked at her, his fingers tangled through her hair.

"Because, firstly, he fraternizes with just about anybody who'll listen – including my enemies," Tobias said. "Secondly, because he loves gloating and in doing so allows me to get information that my enemies do not like shared." Selene was, to say the least, moderately impressed. Tobias always had unique communication skills.

"And thirdly, because I want to show him that my wife is thrice as beautiful as his old hag," Tobias said, winking. He leaned closer to her, his lips tickling her ear, "Between me and you, the jealousy on his face may actually make the meeting half worth it."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"I have an idea for you." Selene had turned around gracefully, looking at the girl behind her. She had been in her room, once again, for over an hour trying to figure out what to wear. She had shooed Rosalie away initially, hoping that it would be easier to pick if she was alone, but clearly that didn't work.

"Rosalie-"

"No, wait," Rosalie said, "I have an idea for what you should wear." And before Selene could object once again, Rosalie unraveled the cloth in her hand and held it in the air. It was red velvet – a beautiful red velvet dress.

"It's long-sleeved and goes to the ground, so it doesn't show any skin," Rosalie said fast. "And it fits your measurements perfectly. It should still show your figure and whatnot, but it's elegant." Reluctantly, Selene took the cloth from her hands. Just by glancing at it, Selene could tell that it would in fact fit her. Selene, already in her undergarments, slipped into the dress. It hugged on her comfortably, showing off her figure in a way that Selene didn't think was possible. The fabric started at her neck and it didn't end until a little bit past her feet, leaving a few inches of a train.

"Where did you get this?" Selene asked breathlessly as she swerved towards her. "It's absolutely stunning." Rosalie gave her a nervous smile.

"I made it, actually," Rosalie said. "Remember that blanket I had? While I was washing it I realized that it would be a much better dress than a blanket and since you're so small..." And then, quite suddenly, Selene felt dangerously uncomfortable in the red velvet dress. She stiffened.

"Oh, Rosalie, that was one of the only things you brought back from your village. I couldn't possibly-"

"No, please, take it," Rosalie pleaded. "This is the least I can do for you, Selene. I know I've been a bit…suffocating lately. But it's only because I feel a bit out of place here." Selene was quiet for a moment. She looked at it again.

"Nobody except my mother has ever made me a dress," she heard herself say aloud. "Thank you." When she looked back up at Rosalie, she found that her eyes were burning with tears.

"Is there anything more I can get for you?" Rosalie asked after a moment of silence. Selene shook her head. Rosalie bowed her head thoughtfully but right before Rosalie was out of view, Selene called her name.

"Yes?" Rosalie asked, a hint of relief in her voice. Selene took a step towards her, her hands clasped.

"I…well, as you know, I haven't had much diplomatic experience, but you have," Selene said. Rosalie's face turned red and she showed a more than uncomfortable smile.

"I wouldn't call my previous job diplomatic," Rosalie corrected. "I've met higher Fae but whores are meant to be seen, not heard." Selene took another small step.

"But you've been inside the Spring Court?" Selene asked. Rosalie gave her a slight giggle.

"I have."

"Is there anything I should know about them?" Selene asked carefully. "Anything that can…help me?" Rosalie straightened and the small smile on her face dropped.

"Like, secrets?" Rosalie asked. Selene flashed back a nervous smile.

"Not necessarily secrets, just information that will help me," Selene said carefully. Rosalie hummed for a moment, as if racking her brain for information.

"Well, I haven't spoken much to Frey – the High Lady," Rosalie said honestly, "Which is who you'll probably spend the most time with because the High Lord refuses to say anything in front of female Fae. He believes a woman with power is untrustworthy." But then Rosalie stopped for a second, giving Selene a hard look.

"But, do not let that fool you, Selene," Rosalie said. "Frey is the dangerous one. She is the one that whispers in the fool's ear, whether he knows it or not. She is the one who runs the Spring Court, despite the High Lord's illusion." Selene was silent for a moment, her eyes running over Rosalie multiple times. It wasn't until that moment did she begin to wonder if Tobias and Leon underestimated the ex-whore. She clearly paid more attention than she showed.

"How do you know this?" Selene asked, though a part of her didn't want to know. Rosalie began to drift towards the door.

"Because my services began at war camps, Selene, where most sons of High Lords stay until their time to fight for the crown begins," Rosalie said. "I've given my services to many Higher Fae and found that they share a lot more when they think nobody is listening. And the nights I had with the then-future High Lord of Spring I learned a hell of a lot. There's no way he could have gotten this far without her."  
~*~ discidium ~*~

Frey was certainly not a hag, but that didn't mean she was pretty. She was a tall, wirey-like woman with thin blonde hair and a beak-like nose. Her face, sallow and narrow, was filled with disdain when she entered the great castle. There was something about her as she stuck her large nose in the air – and something even more about her husband when he walked in without greeting Tobias. Her husband was a larger man, with an average face and dark green eyes. His hair, cropped short, was a mousey color and neither of them came off, well, powerful. Instead, they came off like the snobby neighbors who invited themselves to dinner. Selene didn't know what the Spring Court looked like but they didn't seem impressed in the least.

As Tobias greeted them, and Selene introduced herself to the couple, she shot a look at Rosalie. Rosalie had distanced herself away from couples, standing uncomfortably straight as she waited for directions from Selene. As Selene looked back at Rosalie's blank face, she noticed how Frey was analyzing her lady in waiting as well.

"We must go sit down, Tobias," the High Lord of Spring drawled and as the two men walked away, he shot back at Selene, "This conversation is for men only, deary." Tobias growled something underneath his breath, but before Tobias could take back the High Lord of Spring's words, Frey caught hold of Selene's elbow.

"What a delightful sitting room you have, dear," Frey said, nodding towards the room that had been stocked with a variety of pastries. "Tell me, are those scones? Oh, they are. Come on, Selene, let's celebrate our new friendship with a few carbs." Reluctantly, Selene took the hint and walked with Frey towards the living room, sitting in the nearest leather chairs. Frey had immediately taken a scone from the pastry arrangement between them. Selene sat upright, undyingly uncomfortable.

"Now, tell me, love, how is your stay here as a Lady?" Frey said fast. Selene gave a forced smile and spoke, telling her about all the not-so-funny stories that had occurred since she arrived. Frey laughed repeatedly, her thin smile stretching like leather. She wasn't necessarily mean, Selene decided, but there was something unsettling about the woman. Maybe it was Rosalie's words clouding her judgement, but she didn't trust her. Not now, at least.

"Oh, I remember when I was first brought to the Spring Court," Frey said, leaning in the chair further. "I was wearing a cashm- _why is your lady in waiting staring at us_?" Selene followed Frey's stinging gaze and took notice of Rosalie standing obediently in the corner.

"Oh," Selene said. She caught Rosalie's eyes and nodded towards the exit sharply. Immediately, Rosalie curtsied and left with a smile. Selene turned back towards Frey.

"Sorry about that, she's new," Selene said quickly. Frey's eyebrows perched up.

"New?" She asked. "I've heard some rumors…" The color on Selene's face vanished.

"They are false," Selene said. Frey looked at her scone, picking at it again.

"Are you sure?" Frey asked nosily, "People are saying she was a whore." Selene opened her mouth and then closed it. While Selene was a good liar when it came to her wings, she didn't feel like she had to lie about this one. Why would it matter who Rosalie was? And who were these _people_?

"Did you know that she made this dress?" Selene replied, diverting the subject. "It's made out of a blanket." But the Lady of Spring simply shook her head.

"I can't believe you let her in your own home, you poor girl," the Lady of Spring snorted. Selene stiffened now.

"I'd have you know that I screened my lady-in-waiting with great care-"

"Clearly not as she's sniffing around your husband like a dog," the lady snapped. Selene leaned back in her chair, her eyes cold. Quite suddenly, Selene decided that she more than disliked this so-called friend.

"She is doing no such thing. Her and my husband's previous relations have been long cut off, and not even by me. My husband only agreed to the household position because they were childhood friends." And then the Lady, who had been picking at her scone in disgust, looked up at Selene coldly.

"That's what I thought until my husband took his bitch into my bed and got her pregnant," Frey replied. Selene opened her mouth instantly, a hiss already begging to get out, but then she stopped.

"I apologize for the pain that must give you," Selene managed to say after a moment, though a hint of anger was leaking out, "and I hope you and your husband get over this...mishap, but that is not a factor in my relationship." The Lady of Spring gave out a laugh underneath her breath.

"That's what I thought as well. Fourteen months later, here I am - alone and yet tolerating a whore that is six months pregnant with my husband's child. Yes, the marriage was good at first and I am sure he loves me in his own cold, ruthless way, but he got bored. A mate is not enough for any man with the power our husbands' have. They seek adventure, something to feed their little egos and in doing so, tell themselves that it's in the name of love. Soon, your husband will want to have a child the same way mine did," the Lady said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone. "And I am proposing for you, from one Lady to another, to condone your husband to impregnate." Selene's eyes narrowed on her.

"Condone? You mean encourage my husband impregnate me to solve a problem we don't have?" Selene asked slowly. "What makes you think that having children is our priority right now anyways?"

"Well, of course its not a priority with _you_ , I mean that so-called lady in waiting over there, breathing all over your husband. It would be a waste of time trying to convince him to impregnate _you_ ," the lady laughed. Selene tilted her head.

"You've lost me, Frey," Selene's voice was nearly a cold whisper in the wind, "What are you trying to say to me? Convince my husband to impregnate my lady in waiting so that he can be just like your husband? Having illegitimate children for...what purpose would that serve me exactly?"

"So that when my husband's slut gives birth to that dimwit illegitimate child, I don't have to deal with it circling my future children's birth right," She said, her nose flaring. "We can just marry the illegitimate children off together. See, Selene, it will be like knocking out two birds with one stone. If you just let him indulge early in the marriage and tolerate him having a baby with her, their infatuation will end by the time she gives birth. And, to prevent the long-term damage of their parasite trying to get the throne, we can work together by forcing the two illegitimate children to get married and therefore, make them have a simple life and _not_ threaten either crowns." Selene couldn't breathe for a moment - part of her was in complete shock that Frey was proposing such a ridiculous, far-fetched offer. A second part of her didn't realize until that very minute how much of a fire had been slowly building inside of her since she met Frey.

"And what makes _you_ think he's in love with her? That he wants her? That he doesn't want to have children with me but instead wants to make a family with a girl who isn't his mate?"

"Oh, please, we both know you've already shared that topic or else that girl wouldn't be here. I mean, look at you - what are you, fourteen? Fifteen?" Selene's lips pursed at her words, knowing that correcting her would only give her the satisfaction. "He may lust after you but there's a reason he hasn't pursued your purpose. How embarrassing it would be, having an Illyarian take the throne. He'll have one or two of course just to satisfy you, but could you imagine an Illyarian running the Night Court? He'll be keen to find a replacement."

"And why," Selene said carefully, her hands nearly shaking now. "Would an Illyarian 'running' the Night Court be embarrassing?" The opposing lady scoffed.

"What High Fae would want their heirs to be built like bats?" The lady sneered. "I have no prejudices against Illyarians, Selene, but acknowledging half-Illyarian children as heirs would make him a joke. They wouldn't even be his own _breed_."

"Oh, this isn't a deal that I'm suggesting to be immediate, it's only something that we should leave on the table when the time comes. It's proactive as a Lady to understand early," the lady said, her voice soft as if speaking to a child, "that he will have an affair, darling. And he will have an illegitimate child. And saying as my husband has already reached that stage, we can work together as ladies to make sure our future children aren't threatened. I mean, of course, your children won't make it to the throne anyways, but at least that sniveling lady in waiting-"

"Get the fuck out." The words had slipped out of Selene's lips before she could even process it. The Lady of Spring flinched back with a gasp.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of my house before I throw you out," Selene said, on her feet now. The Lady of Spring's scone had slipped from her hand and suddenly she was up on her feet as well.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you-"

"Ah, and there's my sweet wife," a husky voice drawled from behind them. Selene turned around, her eyes blazing as she saw her husband and the High Lord of Spring hovering in the entrance way. Her husband looked over her fast but showed no sign that he noticed the anger that was written all over her. The High Lord of Spring, on the other hand, noticed quite visibly and, to Selene's surprise, looked unhappy as well.

"Come on, Frey, we're leaving," The High Lord said dully, holding out his arm. Frey pushed past her coldly, nearly elbowing her as she waddled towards her husband. Tobias slid away from them, a smirk on his lips as the two linked arms. Frey sniffed at her with her nose high in the air and the High Lord had turned to Tobias coldly.

"I believe this conversation is over, Tobias," he said sternly, "For _now_." Tobias replied by simply wiggling his fingers as he waved, causing the High Lord of Spring to flush with redness. They both turned away from them sharply, heading towards the front entrance.

"And please do give Octavia my condolences," Tobias projected cruelly, just as the front door opened. "Cauldron knows that any child of yours, legitimate or not, won't make a dent in history." And the only thing that Selene heard next was a slam.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Apparently, Tobias and the High Lord of Spring's conversation wasn't too good either.

"You couldn't have actually expected him to give you an entire mountain of resources without anything in return," Selene said evenly. Following the conflict, they had both retreated to his office, where Tobias was pouring wine into two cups and Selene was lounging on the suede couch.

"Anything in return?" Tobias repeated. "I'd hardly say _not using military force_ isn't something in return." Tobias put a cup of wine in Selene's hands before sitting next to her on the couch.

"Anyways," Tobias continued. "I heard part of your conversation. I wouldn't say that was entirely orthodox either." Selene's lips pursed.

"Yeah?" Selene asked. "What did you hear then?" Tobias smiled.

"Telling her to get the fuck out," Tobias said, a little bit of pride in his voice. "Say, what was she sputtering that could've led you to say such a thing?" Selene could feel the heat rise to her cheeks.

"Oh, nothing important," Selene said, pressing the cup of wine to her lips. Tobias rose his eyebrows impressively.

"I would love to press you more on the subject, Selene," Tobias said. "But I do have to get to work. I have to create a plan by tomorrow for a few war camp leaders." Selene sat upright, beginning to rise to her feet but then Tobias snagged one of her hands and pulled her back onto the couch.

"Though," he said, his lips close to hers, "that is a stunning dress." He pushed her down further on the couch, hovering over her as his hand made its way under her dress. She felt a warmth tingle between her legs. As their lips met, her hand rummaged through his hair. She could've sworn she heard a sound come out of him.

"You are absolutely beautiful, you know that?" He breathed, her dress slowly rising up. His lips started to go down her neck and her hands were gripping his tunic tightly. _It did feel good_ , she thought.

"Tobias," she said softly, nearly inaudible, as his hand found its way towards the inner part of her thigh.

"Selene," he murmured back. A slight moan slipped from her lips as his finger traced her bikini line, teasing.

"I'm-" A moan slipped out as he grew closer. "Not…" His fingers were fully under her undergarments now, his cold fingers touching the outside. "We've never…" _Gone this far_ , she almost said.

"Do you want me to stop?" He whispered, though she knew he certainly didn't. Before she could protest, she felt him slip a finger inside of her and she gasped. She had never gone that far with him, not ever.

" _Tobias_ -" He went farther.

"We should-" He was kissing her more now, fiercer. She could barely breathe.

"We're in the middle of your office-" She wished she could say she wasn't enjoying it, but she was touching him too now. Her hand was grasping at his tunic, untying the front.

"Who gives a fuck," he replied lazily. "I want you, Selene. I want you so bad. It's all I can think about, it's all I can-"

"But you have to work." Somehow she had slipped away from him. He didn't even move as she inched away, fixing her dress.

"The work can wait," he offered softly, but she was already on her feet. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Plus," she heard herself say, "I have to go find Rosalie. I'll…I'll see you at dinner." Before she walked away, she finally looked at him. He was sitting up as well, but she could've sworn there was a flicker of pain in his eyes. Not anger, like she expected. But pain. Before she could say any more, she walked away hurriedly, closing the large double doors as she did so.

~*~ discidium ~*~

For the first time, it was quite difficult to find Rosalie. Selene didn't exactly have the best alibi either – all she needed was a little help undoing her dress without ripping it. Or possibly some help drawing a bath. To be honest, she hadn't really found her excuse yet. She just needed to get away from Tobias and she knew that Tobias, being the stubborn git he was, refused to be in a room with Rosalie by himself. But when she walked into her room, nobody was there waiting. Reluctantly, she knocked on Rosalie's door. When she heard nothing, she opened the door slowly. She was gone.

"Rosalie?" She asked lightly. No response. Sighing, she turned away and walked towards the stairs. But then she heard her voice – she was back on the floor that Selene had originally been on. Quickly, Selene rushed down the stairs silently, trying to keep up with her. Selene noticed that she was close to Tobias's office.

"Rosalie," she whispered, hoping to stop her before she passed Tobias's office. The last thing Selene needed was for Tobias to catch her in her lie. Unfortunately, Rosalie didn't turn around. "Ros-" But then she stopped speaking. Rosalie walked into Tobias's office. Selene froze and blinked stupidly.

"What are you doing here?" Tobias growled loudly. Slowly, quietly, Selene stepped closer to the study. What _was_ she doing in there? Selene thought. She knew at this point she should just turn around before she was caught lying to Tobias. But curiosity had overcame her.

"Your doors were wide open, My Lord," Rosalie replied. "I thought maybe you were needing something…"

"Selene is looking for you," Tobias snapped. "Make yourself useful and go find her." Selene inched closer.

"Did you see the dress I made her?" Rosalie asked. "Darling, wasn't it?"

"Let me guess, you did it out of the goodness of your heart? You put a part of your soul in it? All that matters is her happiness?"

"It's your type," Rosalie said, as if reminding him. "I know how much you like velvet." Selene face heated up instantly.

"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way," he grumbled. "Can you just leave? I really don't feel like fighting with you right now, Rosalie." But she was sure that by the tone of his voice, he knew that she wasn't going to leave that easily.

"I just decided to come over here to say thank you," Rosalie said. "You know, for giving me this opportunity." This time, Tobias gave out a laugh.

"Giving you this opportunity to do what? Make my wife believe that you actually care about her?"

"I and she have a connection, my lord. We'll be friends for life."

"She's a kid, Rosalie," Tobias said replied, disinterest filling his tone. "She doesn't even know what a lady in waiting is. Give her two weeks and she'll finally understand. Hell, actually, just give her three more days. Unlike you, she has some wits."

"Possibly," Rosalie said, "But she's boring, don't you think? Kinda bland."

Tobias gave out a light laugh and said, "Cauldron, I can't wait till she sees through you, Rosalie. You're a fucking snake." There was a moment of silence and Selene, who was still clinging to the wall, was tempted to peak into the room but then she heard a shuffle of feet.

"I'm not sure why you're so bitter, my lord," Rosalie purred. "This is every Lord's dream, is it not? To have their wife make their mistress a lady in waiting? You can have me whenever and wherever you want now. You can have me in the middle of the night, you can have me every time your darling wife leaves the wing, you can even have me _right now_." And then her heart was pounding because Tobias was dead silent. She couldn't even hear him breathe. A part of her was yelling to walk away, leave before she found out something she didn't want to know, but her feet wouldn't move.

" _Rosalie_ ," Tobias said in a quiet voice, soft like a lover, "If I wanted you, you would've gotten on your knees days ago like the whore you are." And then the air shifted – the invitation burned to the ground. Yet, a relief was yet to fill her.

"Is this in fear that she'll get mad? Look at the poor girl," Rosalie continued, as if Tobias hadn't spoken at all. Selene's jaw clenched. "Even if she did find out, she wouldn't care. She might find a bit of relief saying as she hasn't even given herself to you already." And at this point, Selene was wondering why Tobias hadn't shooed Rosalie away already. The last time she had gotten this far, as far as she knew, he had threatened her life. _Because maybe she was right_ , she thought suddenly. Maybe Tobias was getting restless, maybe she was wrong to make him wait. He then spoke in a low, chilling voice.

"You really don't get it, do you, Rosalie?" There was a moment of silence before he continued, "She is the most beautiful woman to ever walk the Night Court and if that means I can never bed her, I am perfectly fine with that, because I don't need to bed someone to know they are _mine_." There was another shuffle and a great inhale that sounded to come from Rosalie.

"Now, the only reason, _the only reason_ , you are here, is because I want her happy," Tobias said coolly. "So you better hope she doesn't tire of you, Rosalie, because the moment that happens, the _second_ she turns against you, I'm going to mist you into thin air and smile as your blood turns to rain."

 **I didn't get as many reviews as I would have liked :'( But I really wanted to include this chapter because I liked it a lot. So, yeah, here you go. Please review though 3 3 It makes my day.**

 **Edit: So I f'd up. Somehow, I managed to change her original name (Rosalie) to Victoria? Not sure how I screwed that up but um, yeah. I'm surprised nobody else caught that. Anywho, her name is Rosalie. Not Victoria. Forgive my amateur-ness**


	7. Chapter 7

The world was raining down on her. She had left Tobias hours ago, telling him she was tired and had to go to sleep. And, for a while, she believed her own lie. But when she got into bed, shedding off her clothes and not giving Rosalie the opportunity to help her undress, her eyes didn't leave the windows. It was thundering horribly, the rain pouring down so hard that she could barely hear her own breaths. It never rained like this in her village – before it even hit the ground, it would be ice. As she watched the rain drops race down the glass, she could still hear the words in her head.

 _I know how much you like velvet._

The thundering was getting so powerful that her bed would shake every time a string of lightening would flash. It was as if the universe was speaking to her, warning her that danger was coming.

 _Even if she did find out, she wouldn't care._

Her fingers were shaking. Was she afraid of lightening? She questioned. She had never thought about it, she had never even imagined what being in a thunderstorm would feel like.

 _You can even have me_ _right now._

Or maybe it was the rain, she thought. The thought of being outside at this moment made her feel like she drowning. She shivered as she looked at the puddles that was starting to gather outside, wondering if it would wash her away. She wondered if they would pull her down and take her with them as they trailed down the porch.

 _This is every Lord's dream, is it not?_

How long would it be before anybody noticed she was gone? Minutes, hours, days? Would anybody ever find her if the water took her away, drowning her? Or would she just be replaced?

 _I'm going to mist you into thin air and smile as your blood turns to rain._

And then she was sitting up, panting as she gripped her throat. She couldn't breathe, she thought. Her heart was beating fast, as if her chest was about to explode. Quickly, she jumped out of the bed, not even bothering to put on regular clothes as she left her room. She felt her feet bang against the cold floorboard as she ran, her body becoming numb with every step. But she felt the wind on her face, the heat rising in her body. Without noticing what she was doing, even registering what was going on, she opened the double doors in front of her.

It was still raining. She couldn't even hear the clicking of the doors because it was thundering so loudly.

"Selene?" The room was larger than she had pictured. It was twice as big as her bedroom, and the windows took up a whole wall. Her eyes wondered around the room, trying to digest every feature. The large dresser, the king-sized bed that had a satin comforter on top. In the corner, facing the window, there were two leather chairs and a coffee table. Beside it was a pitcher of water and a tray of crackers. Parallel to the bed was a large fireplace with burned out coals.

"What's wrong? Selene, look at me!" And then she looked in front of her. Tobias was lingering only a few feet away from his bed. As the lightning flared, she could see him perfectly. For the first time since she met him, he looked vulnerable. His round eyes were filled with confusion as he looked over her, mixed with a hint of anger. Though he wasn't wearing a shred of clothing, he didn't seem to care. His nose flared, but not towards her.

"Is someone in the castle?" He asked sharply, his voice barely audible over the thunder. "Are you in danger?" He walked around her quickly, slamming the door shut. Her eyes, wide with bewilderment, stayed on him.

"No…" She said emptily, her eyes wide. "I don't…" But she couldn't finish her sentence. The ferociousness that had filled his face drained away. He grew closer to her, pulling her chin up. His eyes nailed on her stonily.

"You look terrified," he said, almost to himself. "Tell me. For once, tell me what is going on with you." And she couldn't explain it, but something in his eyes were unforgiving. Whatever he was thinking about, whatever his thoughts were filled with, he looked merciless.

She opened her mouth, ready to speak, but then she kissed him. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't sexy, but her lips were rough when she reached for his. For a moment, he broke away. His eyes ran down on her, on her body, on her eyes, as he inhaled raggedly. She was about to say something, possibly even apologize, but then he pulled her towards him rougher and his hands grasped her tightly. And for just a moment, it was only them. She didn't feel the thunder shaking the floorboards, she didn't see the lightning as it lit up the room. All she could feel was his lips grip onto hers hungrily, as if he couldn't decide if it was real or not. As if he was still trying to decide if he was dreaming this or if she had truly wandered in his room.

After her hands began to tangle in his hair, making him groan, he pulled away once again, looking down at her in amazement. As her hands slid onto his bare chest, she could feel his heart beating nearly as hard as hers. For a moment there was a quietness, just looking at each other wildly, and then she could feel it. She could finally feel what he was talking about when he first met her – like there was a fire spreading inside her that came from his body, as if the motivation and furiousness to keep her wings, to fight for her beliefs, to reject her village, actually came from him. The anger that forced her to fight was just his anger speaking to her, fueling her, consuming her at a distance. Telling her to put all of her rising fears, all of her doubts, in a fire of wrath and burn down the whole world before she let it touch her.

"You were always with me," she rasped. "Even before I met you, I could feel you. You were the voice inside me telling me to fight." And that was how it started. That was when she slammed her lips into his again, pushing him onto the bed, letting his hands run over her. She peeled the thin night gown off, letting herself be free of the fear she had. With every touch, she felt him. And unlike what she thought she wanted, what she believed would be her first time, he wasn't gentle. He didn't fondle her or go slow. He grabbed onto her roughly, pushing his body weight on top of her. He continued by first putting in his fingers until she started to moan and then thrusted inside of her so deeply she screeched. But as she adjusted to the pain and started to feel the pleasure, she realized she was doing the same thing. She realized she was scratching him, pulling his hair, biting his neck. She realized that she was telling him to go harder, to not stop, to not be gentle. She never realized that maybe the reason she was so hesitant to do it before was because she didn't want to do it gently. She didn't want to be stroked like a breakable doll or to be constantly asked if she was okay. She liked the feeling of barely being able to breathe and feeling the harshness, the emotion, in a physical manner. That's why she loved him, she realized. She was addicted to his fury, his rage. And she wanted to feel it in her bones, in her body. She wanted it to burn through her and make her feel like it was too late to stop. That control was no longer an option. And that's what made her climax. All she could feel was the fire that was burning between them, feeling it rise inside of her, and she made sure that Tobias knew it.

"Release your wings," he growled, pulling her on top of him. And at first she was hesitant. But then her wings swung out and he ran his fingers against them greedily. Not softly, not trying to make them shiver, but as if to feel their strength and roughness. That they weren't made out of fragile feathers, they were made out of skin and bone and blood. And though he didn't touch them hard enough to cause any damage, he wanted to feel their resilience. It was unlike anything she had ever imagined – most men were extremely cautious of people touching their wings, almost like they were afraid of them, but to her they were different. They were the strongest part of her, they were made to be a weapon. And somehow he knew that.

" _Selene_ ," he breathed after a moment, his fingers falling to her waist and clawing her to the point she seethed painfully. " _You're mine_." And then he pulsed inside of her, not daring to let go until he was done. Finally, he released her, letting her fall next to him. As her head hit the pillow, she exhaled harshly. His eyes were closed when she looked back at him.

"I feel like I'm in ecstasy," he said, his voice ragged. His eyes fluttered open. "You're perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect, you know that?" And as she looked at him, and herself, taking note of all the bite marks and blood that had been drawn on the both of them, she reflected a smile.

"That felt like…" She began, and he let out a breath.

"Like fire," he finished. "Like fire burning between us." And just like that, she nuzzled into him, feeling his warmth. He was warmer than usual, she realized. Maybe, just maybe, it was real fire. She rested her eyes, listening to his breaths. They began to slow, though they were still deep and desperate for air.

"Stay with me tonight," he urged. "I don't want to sleep without you. Never again." And she knew he meant it by the way his arm went around her body and his legs tangled around hers. It was like he didn't want to let go, like he never wanted to leave this moment. And she didn't either. It was like Tobias had unlocked something in her that she didn't know existed – a part of her that had been trapped for far too long.

"But I have to do something important tomorrow," Tobias interrupted emptily. "Something important." Selene, not truly digesting his words, still lost in the previous moment, nodded lazily.

"Okay. I'll make sure to pack tomorrow morning as soon as possible," Selene said, an abnormal amount of glee filling her. But he was quiet, letting her words linger in the air uncomfortably.

"I think it would be good if you stayed," Tobias replied softly. Selene looked up at him, trying to meet his dark eyes. He wouldn't look at her - he just stared at the wall in a ghostly manner, as if he was looking a million miles away. It was so scary, she thought, how quickly Tobias could open up and then close himself back up without a single warning.

"But, Tobias-" His head shifted to her rapidly. She was quiet when his thumb reached her cheek, stroking her lightly. It wasn't a loving stroke though, she realized. It was like he was ticking, slowly ticking. And the feeling of his thumb on her cheek reminded just how close she was to the bomb that was about to set off.

As he scanned her, his face tightened.

" _Don't_ ," he whispered sternly, making her catch her breath. "Don't ask why, don't ask me where I'm going. Don't ask me anything. Just let me live in this moment, Selene. Don't make me think about tomorrow." Selene was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed down. A chill was going down her spine as her eyes ran him up and down.

"Okay," she breathed. Before she could give him the option to reply, she put her head on his chest and listened to his slow, even breaths. "I won't."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The next morning, Selene woke up in an empty bed. She didn't know when Tobias left but clearly he had left without saying goodbye, or even leaving a note. Ignoring the empty feeling that was occupying her chest, she slowly rose from the bed. It was oddly quiet as she stepped out of his bedroom, as if she was truly the only person at the estate. Normally she wouldn't have felt so lonely, but no servants were to be seen and she felt like she had been abandoned. A part of her yearned to get breakfast, but then she heard something. A creek.

"Tobias? Are you still here?" She asked, her voice echoing down the hall. When nobody replied, she paced towards the noise. She turned a corner, listening to the creeks as they continued, and she began to realize that it was coming from her bedroom. But as soon as she took a step into her room and took in the person that was on her bed, she stumbled backwards.

"Well, well, well. Only a while ago you were telling me that you weren't cut out for the royal life but look at you now - you're unrecognizable." Jameson was at the edge of her bed, his body leaning against one of the posts on the bed charismatically. After she had seen him, he had rarely crossed her mind. His white-blonde hair and his lively green eyes stuck out hauntingly though, and all it did was remind her that she wasn't made to be here. That she wasn't supposed to be here at all.

"How did you…how did you even get in here?"

"That's a story for another time," Jameson crooned, waving his hand dismissively. "Point is, I have business with you, Lady Selene."

"No," she said breathlessly, her eyes widening. "No, no, _no!_ You don't have business with me. You don't have anything with me. You have to leave. Now." But Jameson merely smirked at her, looking her up and down. His eyes were twinkling brightly.

"Why not?" He asked. "Leon is out, Tobias is out. It's just you and me." Serene shook her head fast, taking a step towards him.

"It is not just _you and me_ ," Selene said, forcing her shrilled voice to become a whisper. "Wait, how do you even know that?"

"I do my research," he said smugly. Selene shook her head in disgust. As her eyes stayed on him, she began pacing.

"This can't be happening," Selene said aloud, her breathing seeming shorter, "This-this isn't okay! I have to get you out of here. Tell me, has anyone seen you?"

"Oh, I'm not here to interrogate you. There's nothing to fear," Jameson reassured. But Selene snarled at him.

"It's not you I'm afraid of you, you daft imbecile. It's…Rosalie is here somewhere, watching me. Waiting for me to fuck up so she can swoop in." Jameson's eyebrows perked up, mildly interested.

"Rosalie?" Jameson said, his smirk dropping. "Tobias'sRosalie? You can't trust that bitch. She's devious." Selene's eyes narrowed on him.

"Firstly, she is not 'Tobias's' _anything_ ," Selene hissed. "Secondly, no shit she's devious. Hence, why you need to leave." He pondered this for a moment.

"That would be a smart move," he mused thoughtfully, partly to himself. "Catch you with me in a room, tell the High Lord it's an affair, get you thrown out and my head on a stick. It would be taking out two birds with one stone." Selene glared at him coolly.

"Let me guess, she doesn't favor you either?"

"I was the first one to call her out on her bullshit," Jameson explained evenly, as if he hadn't even heard her snarky tone. "Tobias never believed me of course." Selene's eyes fell to the ground.

"Well, he believes you now and it's all my fault that she isn't gone," Selene mumbled bitterly. Jameson moved off the bed, inching towards her.

"He believes me?" Jameson said, his head tilted. "Bloody hell, what could've happened that would have made him-"

"Does it matter?" Selene snapped. "Point is, you have to leave." Jameson smirked.

"But then you'll never know why I'm here, will you?"

"No offense, but I really don't care why you are here."

"Well, then I'll just get to the point," he said, getting off the bed and walking towards her. "Your husband is about to make a very grand mistake." She tilted her head at him, her eyes filled with impatience.

"Then maybe you should stalk him and not me," she retorted. But then Jameson kept walking towards her and didn't stop until he was a few inches away. A chill went through her body as she felt his breath hit her lips, but she resisted the urge to back away.

"Please, Selene," he said, his voice breaking. "Come with me. Give me one shot. Just one." Selene took a step back, shaking her head.

"I don't trust you," she confessed. "You're a…" But the look in his eyes. It changed from an appealing playful glint to a face filled with desperation. What had happened to him since they last talked? She wondered. She remembered that majority of his people had been killed and his home was practically in ashes, but Jameson seemed to have a plan when he left. He didn't leave the castle looking like he failed. If anything, he left looking victorious.

"Ten minutes," she said, wiggling her finger at him. A smile stretched across his face. "Ten fucking minutes to share your stupid argument." His eyebrows perked up playfully.

"What if I just show you?" He asked. Her lips pressed together impatiently.

"How are you going to show me?" She asked. But then he gave out his arm. She scowled at him.

"You want to winnow me out of here?" She asked. "And what if you kidnap me?" He shrugged nonchalantly.

"If I did, it would be a hell of a lot better than this black corpse of an estate," Jameson said, reflecting a smirk. Her arms crossed tightly.

"I'll make it worth it," he promised, holding out his arm. And then, to her surprise, she let out her arm as well, reaching for his. Her shaking fingers touched his arm and instantly they were in darkness. Rich blackness. It wasn't the first time she had done this, but the blackness always surprised her. It was like a bridge between worlds. Normally it was calming but this time she had realized she had made a grave mistake.

She took careful steps with Jameson and then the light beamed. She exhaled raggedly. Her eyes went around her fast. It was _so_ bright.

"Where are we?" She heard herself ask. When Jameson replied next, she heard a hint of exhilaration in his voice.

"On the edge of our dear old neighbors, the Day Court," Jameson said. "At the border, at least. Technically still on our land, but it's still a beauty." And it was. Everything was colorful – the grass was greener, the trees were filled with bright fruits. The sun even seemed prettier, though Selene couldn't find a reason why. She supposed it was probably because the sky was brilliant bright blue. It was mesmerizing. But, like the Night Court, there was a deadly chill in the air. The place might have been prettier but it still felt like the Night Court.

"Follow me," Jameson said, "And be quiet." And she did. As they trailed around the large oak trees and as she tried her best to not stop and look around, she heard voices gather at a distance. Gruff and thick. Jameson looked at her, putting his finger to his lips. She nodded obediently.

It wasn't until a clearing existed at a distance did they stop. Selene's eyes trailed around the scene rapidly. Many men, fifteen at the least, with broad bodies and fur coats, sat in a circle as a willowy-like woman loomed over them. She didn't look unlike Rosalie. She had long dark hair, straight but with a light curl at the ends, and her dark eyes were ironically bright.

"She's a priestess," Jameson whispered in her ears. "She has visions." Selene had heard of woman like this, and she rarely believed in them except for Tobias's priestess. It was difficult for her to take a woman seriously when she was hiding in a clearing, talking to men as if she had the answers they were seeking. Because they were at a distance, it took Selene a moment to realize that she recognized some of the men. Some of them were higher fae, she realized. Some, she noticed, had to be war lords based upon their attire.

"The Cauldron has been sending messages in my dreams," the priestess's silky voice rang loudly. "And you want to know her words?" Her eyes were sparkling hungrily as many of the war lords cheered.

"The High Lord of Night is a fake. He was not meant to be the High Lord," The priestess continued, as the grunts circulated. Selene's jaw tensed. "And because of his treachery against the Cauldron, a curse with infect the lands." At first there was an anxious silence, the men whispering amongst themselves rapidly.

"What is this curse?" A man said, desperate for more. The woman's smile lengthened, stretching across her face victoriously. Her hair swung around her long face as she looked around at the men again.

"A cruel swan will guide him to the opposite side of the battlefield. The losing side." Lords began to stand up, anger spilling from the crowd.

"Will this affect my land?" One asked. "Will our woman and children be harmed?" Another asked. The questions started to fill the air and all Selene could do was shake her head. The priestess rose her hands to silence them and surprisingly, it worked.

"The Cauldron knows you are believers," she insisted. "If you follow her and her messages, you will not be touched by the curse. She will protect you." Selene's mouth went ajar. She had these men by their balls, Selene thought. Just by how the men leaned closer with every word this woman said, she could tell they would do anything she said. Her power, despite it only being influential among a little over a dozen men, could cause actual damage.

She turned to Jameson. His eyes were filled with horror, if anything. He held out his arm quickly. He didn't say anything – she grabbed his arm without question and within a flash, they were back inside her room. She pulled away from him, her hands clawing at her own hair and she took deep breaths.

"Who was that?" She demanded. "You said a priestess?" He nodded solemnly.

"She's a seer," he explained again, though she felt like the words were simply falling out of her head. "She's very popular in the mountains." She shook her head.

"Why would she say such things?" She asked. "It's like she wants them to turn against him. It's like she wants him…" But then it hit her.

"They're going to start a coup," she said aloud, looking at Jameson anxiously. "We have to tell my husband." But Jameson shook his head quickly.

"He'll just murder all of them and will give them a reason to have a full-blown revolution. They'll see the dead as martyrs," Jameson argued. "Plus…" Selene's face hardened.

"Plus what?" She asked harshly. Jameson hesitated for a moment, looking at the crowd and then back at her.

"What if it's true?" Jameson asked quietly. Instantly, Selene scoffed at him.

"What the hell are you talking about? You think a swan is going to go up to my husband, give him some loony advice, and then Tobias, of all people, will just obey its commands and start a war he can't win? Are you mad?!" Jameson held her gaze tightly, but then he shrugged.

"Maybe…maybe not literally, but what if it's a symbolic message?" Jameson offered. "What if he has vulnerabilities that he doesn't know about because he thinks he's stronger than he really is? It is from a priestess." Selene rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, not even bothering to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"That's ridiculous," she spat. "She's a fake. She's just trying to control them." But he held her gaze, not even blinking as he spoke.

"The facts are not wrong," Jameson countered. "Can you blame them? With the knowledge of how your husband came to power, can you blame them?" Her mouth went slightly ajar. Because there was so much intensity in his eyes.

"You don't think he should be High Lord," she realized in a quiet voice. "That's your point, isn't it? You think he doesn't deserve it." The anger boiled in her as she approached Jameson, shaking her head.

"The Cauldron chose him-"

"Did it?" Jameson spat. "Did it choose him? Or did he just manage to make Leon forfeit it by scaring the shit out of him?" Selene's lips curled up instantly.

"Leon didn't even want it," Selene snarled. "He wasn't cut out for it. Even Tobias said that he could feel the power transfer into his veins." Jameson laughed at this, shaking his head as if Selene was absolutely delirious.

"Yeah, you know, maybe he did deserve it. Maybe he was meant to have it," Jameson said, still reflecting a mocking smile. "I'm not saying to take it away from him. I'm telling you that because of his actions there's a prophecy on your husband's head and you have to stop it." Selene rolled her eyes.

"Let's say you're right," Selene seethed. "What am I supposed to do? Stop him from making political decisions? Take away his power? Lock him into the castle and tell him not to talk to any swans?"

"Help me," Jameson pleaded. "Help me find a way to stop this curse from happening. Or else he'll make a decision that puts him on the wrong side of a battlefield and he will die brutally." Selene held his gaze.

"There's no curse, Jameson," Selene said, her voice oddly soft. "I understand you went through a great loss, and I know you probably blame my husband for that, but my husband isn't a fool. He loves the Night Court." Jameson didn't respond at first. She couldn't read his face – it was so empty, so unreadable.

"And you're willing to risk that?" Jameson said. She opened her mouth to reply but then nothing came out. "You love him, Selene. I could see it in you when you stood up in that meeting and I can see it now. You're not married to him for power. You care." She bit her lip. It was something she worried about. She loved him, but she didn't want power. She just wanted him. And deep down she was worried that power would get in her way of loving him.

"I'm not going to betray him," Selene said. "I'm not going to manipulate him." Jameson shook his head.

"Then don't," he said. "But you have an ability that I don't have. Only you can see if someone around him is influencing him to make a bad decision. Half of the men around him would be glad to see him dead. If you love him, you'll watch out for that."

"I'm just asking for you to work with me," Jameson continued. "I'll see if the curse is real, but in the meantime I need you to be my ears if something happens. If the curse is real, then we need to find a way to stop it. If it's fake, we need to find a way to stop the coup that will occur soon."

"But my husband can't know about any of this."

"No," Jameson replied emptily. "It's better if you keep it quiet so he doesn't get himself killed." And Selene could suddenly imagine it. Even if Jameson was wrong, if Tobias caught word that any of this was happening, he would slaughter all of them without a single hesitation. And then what would happen to her husband? His people would turn against him. And while she didn't want to test her power, she loved him dangerously. She wasn't, she realized, willing to test that.

"Fine," she said through her clenched teeth, "I'll do it. I'll listen for any rumors and watch my husband. But you have to promise me something?" His eyes enlarged.

"What?" He asked quickly.

"You will keep me updated as well," she said. "And you'll make sure those rumors don't spread any more than they already have." He nodded curtly.

"Of course, my lady," he said. She took a deep breath.

"Now go, go before someone catches you," she rasped tiredly. But there was something else on his mind.

"If I may ask," Jameson lingered on, almost as if he was hesitant, "What are you going to do?" She blinked at him stupidly.

"Do about what?" She inquired.

"Rosalie," He answered. "I've known her for as long as Tobias has. She's relentless." Selene held his gaze. He didn't look worried, nor doubtful, of Selene's abilities. Instead, he seemed entirely curious.

"What am I supposed to do? Kill her?" Selene exasperated. "Because that's my options. It's either trust my husband or let my husband mist her into thin air." Jameson was quiet for a moment, his wondrous eyes looking into hers.

"You know you're the first person to ever be a Lady in the Night Court that wasn't already High Fae, right?" Jameson blurted. "You beat the odds, Selene. You are the first female Illyrian in your region to ever keep her wings, you are the first woman to interrupt the High Lord at the annual Night Court meeting, you are the first Lady I've ever heard of to ever tell another Lady to bluntly fuck off and you are possibly the first person on this planet to be willing to walk away from the Night Court if need be because you know that this world has far more to offer." Selene shook her head at him tiredly.

"I don't see your point," Selene contested. Jameson gave her a small smile.

"You are possibly the strongest woman to ever step foot on this earth," Jameson laughed. "And yet you are letting a woman whose only power is seduction to decide your fate?" His words rang in her head repeatedly. A certain numbness overcame her as she stumbled on this. As he winnowed away, evading her vision, she couldn't help but feel in awe of her sudden realization.

Because, instantly, she understood what she had to do.

~*~ discidium ~*~

The rest of the day went by like a breeze. She had, again, managed to escape Rosalie's attention. She had seen her occasionally but as soon as her red hair came into view, Selene would turn away coldly. Aside from that though, she decided to investigate. She looked at the items that scattered around Tobias's large desk. Most of them were maps, old letters sent between generals, a few messages from other High Lords at different courts. But none of it seemed concerning and not a single piece of parchment gave her the desire to look further. So after a few hours of reading useless words that showed no connection to the ridiculous curse that the redheaded priestess had spoken about, she went on the rest of her day peacefully. She assumed Tobias would be back at dinner, but after waiting for him at the dinner table for over an hour, she went to his room solemnly. She debated on going to her own room, but there was something about his room that called to her. Maybe it was the satin sheets, maybe it was the large windows that overlooked the mountains, but it was a nice place to read a book.

By the time she finished her book, her eyes grew heavy. She leaned towards the candles that was on the nightstand, her lips opening to blow out the many candles that had been lit, but then the double doors opened loudly. Her lips turned upward, a half smile on her face, but then her face dropped and her eyes widened.

It was Tobias, but he looked petrifying. He stood in the door in a ghostly manner, not saying anything as her eyes ran up and down his body. His clothes were ripped and torn, and he looked like he had just came back from fighting a thousand men. There was dried blood all over him – from his hair, to the long streaks of blood on his cheeks, to the spots on his ripped clothes and his blood stained palms. Even his boots were causing a trail of blood as he lingered in the doorway. Cautiously, even though every part of her told her not to, she began to rise from her bed but then he stopped her.

" _No_ ," he seethed, holding out his hand before she could go any further. "Sit. I need you to…" He paused for a moment, closing his eyes tightly and his thick hands tangling into his blood-stained hair. "I just need you to sit." Slowly, Selene sat back onto the bed. She was quiet as she watched him breathe deeply, mumbling something she couldn't hear. Then he looked up at her, and his black-mooned eyes were swirling with a mix between madness and anxiety.

"Sometimes, I can't take you places," he began to say. "Sometimes I need you to stay back and not ask questions. Sometimes I need you to look the other way. Because, I can't let you…" But then he stopped and he inhaled raggedly. Selene was about to move towards him once again, but then she remembered his commands. She swallowed, her moist hands clamping together.

"There are pieces of me that I don't want you to see," Tobias said carefully, and he winced like each word caused him pain. "Pieces of me that would make you run from me." Selene's crystal eyes looked over him, but not at the blood - at his eyes. At his shaking hands. The tremble of his lips. He looked terrifying, yes, but he also looked terrified himself.

"Why would I run?" Selene asked, in the same exact voice. Tobias shrugged lightly, his head shaking.

"I just know that I need you, Selene," he murmured, his voice breaking, "I need you because you remind me to be better. You remind me that…I want this entire fucking world, but it doesn't mean anything if you aren't in it. I _need_ you in it." Selene was still. For once, she didn't want to reach towards him. She could only look at him, trying to take in the broken figure in front of her.

"If you think it would make me run, then don't tell me," Selene said, her voice surprisingly calm. "Because I need you too." He went towards her then, nearly falling into her arms as he collapsed onto the satin bed. His whole body was shaking, she realized, as he pulled her towards him tightly. As he rested his head onto her chest, she touched the blood that had dried into his hair. It was just blood, she told herself. It was just blood.

But years from now she would find out where that blood came from. She would discover the sins that Tobias committed and how those sickening actions marked a night that changed not only history but her future as well. Some would say that's when the Night Court truly gained the fear it needed to hold power, others would say it was simply the first egotistic step towards the war. Because, starting that night, the Night Court made a decision that created both enemies and allies that would last centuries. She could live with that though, she would tell him later, _years_ later. But the occurrences of that night is what would cause her children to be hunted thrice the amount that normal royal children would normally be, she would yell, and because of that she would dedicate every breath she had left to teach her children how to defend themselves with every skill possible. But the cost of his actions committed that night wouldn't just cause Selene to fear for her children – he would one day realize. It would cost him the lives of his wife and daughter as well.

~*~ discidium !*!

The next morning, she glided through her doorway quietly. The door had been left wide open and the rays of sun were shining through the window brightly, causing the specks of dust in the air to twinkle like stars. At first she had hated the hard wood floors, but once she got used to it she began to crave the feeling of the smoothness at her feet. It gave her comfort.

But when she walked in, her eyes lingered on the female figure that was digging inside her closet. She looked gorgeous – her large curls that bounced down her back weren't frizzy or tangled. She was wearing a smooth red dress that looked casual but at the same time, showed her figure elegantly. Every single day, Rosalie looked like she was meant to be there more and more. It was like she was slowly trying to prove that she was better than the rest. And Selene, even when she knew all the horrible things that Rosalie was plotting, still couldn't find a way to hate her. It was something about her that made Selene admire her. Maybe it was the way her beauty nearly leaked off her when she walked into the room, maybe it was the fact that Rosalie had gotten so far in her endeavors and Selene couldn't help but be impressed.

"Rosalie," Selene said flatly. Rosalie turned around, and flashed her a small smile. A trusting smile. A friendly smile. What did she think of me? Selene wondered. Did she think of her as a threat as well?

"Yes, Selene?" Rosalie asked, and then Selene slammed the door shut loudly and locked it behind her. Rosalie, whose large eyes grew even larger, jolted backwards. For the first time, Selene saw the fear in her eyes. And it almost gave her some relief that Rosalie, just by one look, knew why Selene was mad. At least she wouldn't have to deal with the begging for forgiveness or the pitiful denial. Rosalie didn't underestimate her like Selene had, she realized. Rosalie just believed she was too weak to do anything about it.

"I am the Lady of the Night Court," Selene said, taking precise steps towards her. " _The_ Lady. And I do not come from high places or speak in the tongue of Higher Fae. But I am an Illyarian, and I am the wife of the most powerful man in the world. And you are nothing." Rosalie, for the first time since she encountered Selene, was entirely quiet. Her lips were a straight line when Selene glowered at her.

"If I leave you, you will die," Selene said, her eyes glittering. "I don't know why Tobias hates you so much, and why he has turned on you so fast but I do know that you have skills. Not just as a whore, but you use your sexuality as a weapon in a way that I cannot." Rosalie opened her mouth and then closed it stupidly. Selene, feeling the power in her veins, smiled. A cold, merciless smile.

"So you have two choices," Selene said, her hands clasping behind her back. "You can leave and try your best to escape my husband's wrath, or you can do my bidding." Rosalie looked her over multiple times, as if debating on what to say, on what to do, but then Rosalie's composure broke. Her shoulders straightened and her eyes landed on her like daggers.

"And we can't make a deal?" Rosalie sneered, just as coolly. "You are a powerful woman, I am a powerful woman. Don't be a f-"

" _Tobias_!" Selene shouted. Rosalie staggered back, the color draining from her face.

"No, please-"

"Tobias, I have a situation!"

"I'll do whatever you want," Rosalie said rapidly. "What do you need? What do you need me to do? Tell me." Selene's smile lengthened.

"I need you to seduce men for me," Selene said calmly. "In order to get secrets out of them. I don't care if they have wives or lovers, nor if they are High Fae or common Fae. Whoever I need you to seduce, you will do it, and you will get information out of them. In return, you can continue to live here, but you will do so quietly and obediently. You will never touch my husband, or anybody else in this household unless I tell you so. You are mine."

~*discidium~*~

 **Hopefully everybody remembered that I f'd up Rosalie's name in the last chapter and had to fix it. Again, her name is Rosalie, not Victoria (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, it means I fixed it). This was a bit R-rated tbh, so sorry but not sorry. I WOULD LOVE FOR REVIEWS PLEASE REVIEW THIS IT'S THE BEST FEELING EVER TO GET REVIEWS**


	8. Chapter 8

"Lord Baywash questions Tobias's reign heavily, but only because he's married to, er, an Illyrian. Also, Fabian van Por had a little fun with me last night and he told me that somebody has been whispering in the eastern villages that Tobias is adopted – how stupid is that?" Selene paced in a tight circle in front of Rosalie, who in which was sitting on her bed.

"What about Lord Parrish? You mentioned he gave you some information."

"Lord Parrish is just pissed because Tobias arranged him with a lesbian – she's hot, by the way, in case you were curious," Rosalie finished, making Selene stifle a laugh. To Selene's surprise, Rosalie had turned out to be extremely helpful in the last few weeks. After Selene demanded Rosalie to bend at her will, they became quite close in ways that Selene had never been close to anyone. For instance, Selene found that Rosalie wasn't even into men. She was a lesbian. Her work to seduce men had absolutely no personal feelings, making her motivations even more interesting than before. She also began to like Rosalie's snake-like maneuvers to obtain survival. It was admirable, to say the least, to see Selene slither into someone's pants and then coax them into telling secrets. Rosalie had also become honestly fond of Selene once they agreed to stop the overly-nice attitudes between one another. If anything, they had become close to friends. Now that Rosalie saw a side that she could relate to in Selene, instead of just seeing her as the ignorant Illyrian girl, a unique bond had formed.

"Thankfully, tonight, I have a date with-" But then an _ahem_ had interrupted Rosalie's words. Selene swerved around jerkily as Rosalie jumped from off Selene's bed. Tobias was looming in front of them both, leaning against the doorframe charismatically. He flashed Rosalie a piercing look and with a nervous laugh, she curtsied and walked around the both of them hurriedly. Tobias's eyes followed her down the hall but once her feet began to go down the staircase, Tobias walked in fully and shut the door behind him.

"You look nice," she said. And he did. He was wearing a pure-black tunic made out of fine cloth and black leather pants. She looked down at his new hiking boots. They had silver spikes on it and went up to his knees. It was unlike his usual apparel.

"I have my reasons," he said evenly, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he did so. He walked towards her slowly, his hands gripping onto her hips softly. She felt heat rise to her face.

"And what would those be?" Selene replied, smiling now as well. But then his smile dropped slightly, making his face reflect a distorted look. Selene's smile dropped.

"I'm leaving," he said, "right now." Selene swallowed uncomfortably.

"I told you, you don't have to tell me-"

"No, you should know," Tobias said, letting out a deep breath. "I'm going back to your village." Selene was quiet for a moment. She felt herself back away from him slowly, her mouth drying up. The words had echoed several times in her head before she took another breath.

"Why are you going-"

"It's not like that," Tobias said, reaching towards her again but she didn't allow his hand to touch her. "It's…it's business." But she only stared at him. She shook her head slowly.

"Tobias-"

"It _is_ my lands, Selene," Tobias replied sharply, more like her High Lord than her husband. "I have to visit occasionally." She stiffened.

"So that's that?" Selene contested, her voice rising. "You're just going to go over there and pretend that you didn't whisk me away? That I'm not your wife?" He let out a laugh, a demeaning chuckle that made her flinch.

"No," He said, "I'm bringing my beautiful wife with me. After all, she is their Lady." Selene's chest was tight. She could breathe easily but she didn't feel her breaths as they went in and out. Instead, she just felt a piercing pressure, as if the world was falling over her.

"I can't just go back," she said, her voice small. "I can't just go back and pretend none of that happened. I can't just pretend that I'm okay with what they did and look them in the eyes as if they didn't torture me and made me live in fear for eighteen years." And his eyes stayed on hers, reading her. He was quiet.

"And why the hell would you pretend none of that happened?" He said, cold. "If anything, you need to be the one to remind them."

~*~ Discidium ~*~

Despite Tobias's empowering speech, it wasn't easy convincing her to go. For the next few hours, after she locked him out of her bedroom, he tried various techniques to get her out – pleading, wooing, demanding, even trying to seduce her through the bedroom door. It wasn't until he mentioned that Rosalie would be able to go as well did she finally oblige.

"What?" She had asked. There was a moment of tense silence.

"Rosalie can go," he muttered dryly. "If she's quiet." She had crouched next to her door, her arms crossed, but now her body had loosened. She stood on her feet.

"And we are taking the carriage?" She asked curiously, her lips to the crack of the door.

"Yes, we are taking the damn carriage because Leon can't walk like a normal fae." Selene's eyebrows popped up instantly.

"Maybe you shouldn't have let Jameson cut off his leg then, Tobias," Selene spat back at him through the door. Immediately, she could feel his fuming. His anger boiled in her stomach, like an inflamed bridge burning between them.

"Selene, open the damn door," Tobias demanded. Selene obeyed, opening the door jerkily. He loomed over her, his dark eyes squinting.

"If you want to bring Rosalie, fine," Tobias said, his lip curling upward. "But for cauldron's sake, I'm your husband. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"I know that," Selene said, her voice soft. "It isn't about you." Tobias blinked at her rapidly, his hands out.

"Then what the hell is this about?" He snapped. And then she was quiet because she couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"I'll go," She said grudgingly. "But only for a day. We are not spending the night. We go in the carriage, do whatever you have to do, and then we leave. Okay? And no, you cannot burn down the village in the end. I don't want that on my head." Tobias pretended to ponder this.

"I'll think about it," he replied, flashing a smile. She tried not to smile back.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"So tell me, Tobias, what's the point of allowing me to bring my lady-in-waiting if she's not allowed to ride with us?" They were beginning to ride into the mountains, the blue peaks far too familiar for her liking. She had forgotten the smell of the frozen grass and how the snow was practically ice as it rained down. She had bundled up next to Tobias, cuddling against him. Though they shut the windows in the carriage, it did nothing to stop the cold from seeping in.

"How else am I supposed to get my wife to get this close to me?" Tobias said with a victorious smirk. "Anyways, somebody has to keep Leon warm and it's not going to be me." She let out a small laugh. In the carriage that was trailing closely behind them, they heard a string of cursewords. Clearly, Leon wasn't having a good time.

"You both would have never lasted living in the mountains," she said with a small smile. "So privileged." And while Tobias replied with a little laugh as well, something changed in the air as her words rang in the air.

"What was it like?" Tobias asked, his voice strained. "Being in these…mountains." She looked up at him, watching his dark eyes scale the mountains.

"You saw my memories," she replied stiffly. "Clearly, you know." But his lips formed into a tight line.

"Snippets," Tobias murmured. "I only saw snippets. And even then, I didn't understand." She swallowed.

"I was practically a slave," she heard herself say. "I felt…like I didn't fit into my body. I certainly didn't fit into the village. Most of the friends I made were whores that would travel village to village and wouldn't stay for more than a few months. I even considered it, once. I thought that maybe if I sold myself to be a lord's mistress then nobody would care about my wings." She didn't look up at Tobias. She didn't want to see the shame, the disgust, on his face.

"And why didn't you?" His words were careful.

"Because I was too pretty," she mumbled. "Because my parents needed the money and they wouldn't get that money if I wasn't a virgin. That was my plan, to be honest. I was going to wait until some high-ranked Illyrian soldiers came through, caught notice of me, and paid my parents to take me away. Once I was out of the village, I would steal from the Illyrian and run away." She couldn't even feel Tobias's breaths after she finished her sentence. He was quiet – too quiet.

"I guess that's kind've what happened," she said, laughing to herself. "Except, now they're terrified and I'm still here." And then she looked up at him. His eyes were wide and jaw clenched. She could've sworn that his face had grown darker and his irises – those black pit holes.

"I felt you," he admitted emptily, and there was a hint of shame in his voice. "I felt you before I saw you tied onto that post. I had felt you for years – even when you were just a child. Sometimes in the middle of the night I would bolt right up, wondering why the fuck I was dreaming about herbs and berries and mountains. Sometimes if I took a late night walk, I would suddenly see a blistering blizzard in front of me and could feel the snow up to my knees. When it was a full moon, I would feel like the full moon would get bigger, like it was coming towards me. I even knew that _asshole_!" Hunter, he meant. "I knew I recognized him. I was just too foolish to connect the dots." She was quiet as she held his gaze. His body was clenched together tightly.

"I didn't know," he continued, his voice nearly inaudible. "If I had met you the first time I walked in there, if I had paid any attention during my first tour when I became High Lord instead of fooling around, the first time _you_ saw _me_ , if I had just …"

"You would've mated with an eight year old?" She finished, her eyebrows upward. The anger that washed over his face broke, his mouth ajar as he grasped for an answer but she spoke before he could respond. "Even if you had felt the bond, and even if you accepted it, you couldn't have taken me away. You couldn't stop what happened to me." But his eyes were unchanging, shaking his head slightly.

"No, but I should've came back sooner. I delayed the second trip countless times throughout the years. Maybe I wouldn't have felt the bond with an eight year old, but a fourteen year old? A fifteen year old? A sixteen year old?" He repeated. "Maybe you'd be too young to be in love with me, and I with you, but you don't need to love your mate to feel the string. I would've kept you safe, Selene, no matter how old you were. I would've let you roam the skies anytime you wanted. I would've gotten you the best tutors, I would've given you your own wing in the castle, I would've taken care of you as a guardian until the bond fully snapped together." And she tried to imagine that. Being just a young girl and yet being whisked away by the High Lord of Night. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be raised by him, and then slowly falling in love with him as the years unfolded. If she hadn't had to worry about the wings, if she had grown up as a royal instead of a peasant.

"I think I would've liked that," she let out softly, and a lump grew in the back of her throat. "I think I would've fallen in love with you far sooner." And something broke in his eyes, like he was surprised that she would say such a thing. Like loving him was already so difficult, that he never thought loving him sooner was a possibility.

He reached towards her, his lips colliding with hers urgently. She grasped onto him tightly, pulling him even closer as their lips meant. Her hands dove through his black hair as he gripped her waist, barely getting air as his mouth moved against hers hungrily. She couldn't even feel the cold anymore as the bond inflamed between them, consuming them, filling them up. She had to yank away from him to finally breathe, her throat burning from whatever power they transmitted between them.

"Tobi-" But he grabbed her again, pulling her on top of him, his hands roaming. With every kiss he gave, it felt like his lips were burning her. Like each imprint was a piece of coal pressing against her. Yet, she could barely let go. She could barely stop to speak with him. Because the pain they both felt was so _addicting._

"We shouldn't-"

"We should," he said huskily. He began to kiss her neck, making her seethe as his lips seared against her skin. Somewhere in a distant place she heard clothes unravel and buttons be undone, and she couldn't tell if it was her or him encouraging the disaster. Her whole body was smoldering.

"The carriage is rocking, Tobias," she whispered, but her hands were running down him as well, causing him to breathe through his nose raggedly. Even the slightest touch made him struggle for air, tensing as her fingertips trailed down his torso delicately.

"It's made out of metal," he exhaled into her ear, his voice nearly choking. She shook her head. She could feel small beads of sweat on his chest, trailing down him. His hands were farther down her, not bothering to slow down. Not bothering to hesitate before going under her dress. Even in a blizzard it felt like he was lighting a burning match inside of her. When his fingers entered, a flare shot up her, causing her to tighten. Under her, she felt something _else_ press against her. Her words were weak as she struggled to suppress her whimpers.

"The coachmen can hear us-"

"He gets paid quite generously."

"But the carriage-"

"It's pulled by magic, Selene. Not horses. It'll…It'll be fine," he implored desperately. "I need _more_ , Selene. Give me _more_." And so she did.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"You look pink," Rosalie hissed, her hands on her lips. "And _him_. Why the hell does he look like a golden crisp? What happened?" Her questions were rhetorical as she fixed her dress urgently. The carriage had stopped in front of her village finally and Rosalie was desperately trying to fix her appearance. At a distance, she heard Tobias snarl at someone at the entrance.

"And your braid is a mess. It took me forty-five minutes to do that braid," Rosalie scolded. "Now I'm going to have to undo the entire thing and pray that your curls don't look like fried noodles." But as Rosalie threw the pins out of her hair, whisking them out quickly, the curls came out smooth and bouncy. Rosalie sighed with relief.

"Are you okay?" Rosalie asked, though her tone was still sharp. "You're dangerously hot. Do you have a fever or-"

"Don't worry about it," Selene cut off. If she wasn't already pink, she would've been now. "It's time to go anyways." Selene walked around the carriage before Rosalie could protest, meeting Tobias at his side. Though she was next to him, there was a few feet that separated the two of them. She didn't want to be the wife that clung to his side needingly, she wanted to look strong. Rosalie had followed behind her at her heels, stopping close behind her. She could feel Rosalie's could breath. Tobias was parallel to her, nearly the same exact difference but behind Tobias.

Together, they entered the grey village. When she walked in, she looked around. She had forgotten how depressing her village was – it was either brown or filled with slush. They were in a long line along the opposite side of the grassless courtyard, where the post she had almost been crippled on stood between them. Petyr had stepped towards them, Tobias meeting him in the middle. Selene stayed where she was, as did Leon and Rosalie. The crowd parallel to her didn't so much as move an inch.

Selene's eyes lingered across all of them, eyeing every single person. And while she took note of the rags they wore and the dirt on their faces, all she could think about was how they laughed when Hunter stripped her from her clothes. How they snickered and joked and held her down as Hunter tried slicing her wings off. She remembered how her family, who had heard about the situation and rushed to the scene, didn't even twitch when a man who was infamous for cruelty took her away. And even though the clothes she wore costed more than the whole village altogether would make in a century, she couldn't feel bad for them. Instead, she was the one who felt small. Who looked at all those people and knew, despite everything, they still didn't see her as better than them. She would never win.

"How did you live amongst these people?" It came from Rosalie. She said it breathlessly, her almond-shaped eyes running across all of them as well. There wasn't pity in her eyes, but awe as she continued to stare.

"I didn't," Selene said, her voice even. "I never did. Not really." Rosalie's eyes fell towards her, and she felt her analyze her posture as she faced the crowd. Rosalie was quiet for a moment.

"Fuck them," she replied finally, her voice cold. "Fuck them all." And Selene knew she wasn't just talking about her village – she was talking about her own as well. Because Rosalie and she were alike, both of them ostracized and demeaned from a group of people who understood nothing.

And as Rosalie said those words and Leon had caught her attention pointedly, Selene nodded at him. Silently, as if they all knew what she was saying, the three of them walked towards Petyr and stood behind Tobias loyally. Petyr's eyes draped over her. She knew what Petyr was saying to her. _Traitor, whore, scum_. But when she persisted to hold his gaze, something he hadn't expected her to do, his nostrils flared. Tobias instantly let out a low, echoing growl. Petyr twitched to Tobias's attention.

"She lived here eighteen years and now you can't take your eyes off my wife's body?" Tobias said, clucking his tongue. Petyr's face drained as Tobias let out a dangerous chuckle. "Truthfully, I am curious, where did she learn to suck me off so well? Or is it just a natural talent that she favors me with every night?" Selene suppressed a small smile. It didn't hold any truth, but she knew Tobias's intentions with the comment. Like a subtle backhanded slap towards her family, who had abandoned her so easily. Her parents, who were trying their best to blend into the line of people, scrunched together shamefully. People all around them turned towards them. Petyr's chin rose, a small smile on his face.

"I am glad you are enjoying your new wife. We are honored to supply her to you," Petyr replied strongly. And then Selene saw Tobias tense. Though nothing changed in his face, his hands that were clapped behind his back tightened.

"Honored?" Her husband echoed back. " _Honored_? Do you call this dump _honoring_ me?" Petyr's smile dropped. He blinked stupidly.

"What do you mean-" And then Tobias began to circle him slowly, his nostrils flared and his lips curled up.

"I come here, miles and miles away, dedicating my precious time to this pathetic village and this is what you give me, Paelic?" Tobias's voice rose. "A dump and an appreciation towards my wife?" When Tobias chuckled, Petyr scrunched together. He stared forward as Tobias loomed around him like an animal about to lunge for prey.

"So brown and dirty and…what the fuck is this?" Tobias snarled. He looked down, noticing the dung pile he almost stepped in. Petyr swirled around, blinking at the pile.

"Some…some sort've dung," Petyr said hesitantly. Tobias's eyebrows perked up.

"Some sort've dung?" Tobias repeated. "Some sort've dung? You don't even know what type it is?" Petyr gaped stupidly, unsure what to say.

"Get down and fucking tell me!" Tobias roared. Petyr's eyes widened. Slowly, he crouched down to his knees, eyeing it as he winced.

"Horse," Petyr said, his voice crackly, "Horse dung." Selene's husband didn't look pleased.

"Horse shit? You dare leave horse shit in front of me?" Tobias spat. Petyr shook slightly. "Do you know what would've happened if I had stepped in it, Petrov? Do you know what would have happened?"

"You would've smelled like horse dung," Petyr replied quietly. Tobias nodded slowly.

"I would've smelled like horse dung in front of my beautiful wife," Tobias spat. "Put your nose to it, Peura. Put your nose to it and tell me what my wife would have to bear during our six hour ride back." Petyr looked up at him briefly but then he put his nose close to the dung, clearly trying not to inhale.

"It smells awful," Petyr said simply. "I apologize." But that wasn't enough. Tobias's eyes were blazing.

"That's as close as you can get? Sniffing at it like a cowardly dog?" Tobias said, laughing slightly. Petyr didn't even blink at him.

"I want your nose in the pile, Phillip. Man up," her husband growled. And Petyr obeyed – he lowered, dipping his nose in the dung as he grimaced. When his eyes looked back up at Tobias, her husband spat at him. His spit landed on his cheek, making Petyr inhale raggedly. But he didn't speak. He didn't even twitch.

"Do you like it?" Tobias cooed. Petyr's cheeks heated up.

"Wh-what?" Petyr stammered, struggling to keep his lips away from the pile of dung. Tobias's smile lengthened.

"Do you like your nose being in horse shit?" Tobias's voice rang. Petyr hesitated for just a moment.

"Yes," Petyr said quietly. Tobias's long eyelashes fluttered against his cheek bones impatiently.

"Yes?" Tobias repeated, his voice filled with disgust. "You like putting your nose in _horse shit_?" Leon was snickering. But Selene's eyes lingered on Tobias.

"Yes," Petyr said tightly. "I like putting my nose in horse…horse _shit_."

"Then lick it." And then Leon's smile had dropped. And it wasn't because of Tobias's brutal command, but instead why Tobias had commanded it. Because it wasn't about domination anymore, or about showing him who is boss, Selene realized. It was about revenge. Humiliation in return for humiliating her. When she thought about Petyr, all she thought about was her wings. But Tobias thought of so much more – how his son tried to rape her, the sound of her cries as she was bound to a post, and how Petyr looked away when his future wife was about to be crippled. She noticed how the line of people cringed, watching Petyr like a hawk. As if they were waiting for him to object. But Tobias was trying to rip away his honor, his manliness, in front of the whole entire village. Simply because he could.

Tobias's eyes grew darker, his lips forming into a snarl.

"Lick it?" Petyr said, his voice a whimper. Tobias took a small step towards him, only inches away from his head.

"Lick it like you lick your whore wife," Tobias purred, his voice low but loud enough that everybody could still hear. His dark eyes were deathly when he said, "Lick it like it's the most beautiful thing you have ever fucking seen." And then Petyr hesitated. He understood Tobias's reason, Selene noticed, because Petyr eyed Selene pleadingly. Tobias had noticed his gaze and looked at her as well, as if waiting for her order. Selene let out a breath.

"You heard your High Lord," she snarled at him, unsure how the words came out without shaking. But then Petyr's face crinkled, his lips curling.

"I don't take commands from a wom-" And before he finished his sentence, Tobias smashed his head into the pile of dung with the heel of his boot. She could hear a range of exhales ring across the line of people. Leon's lips had formed into a tight line but Selene's glare didn't leave Petyr. Her eyes were venomous when he looked up, spitting the poop from out of his mouth and leveling to his hands and knees. He looked up at the High Lord slowly but Tobias's gaze found the line of people for the first time. They all diverted their gazes, looking anywhere but him.

"I can't have a leader who eats horse dung run this shithole," Tobias spat at him, his voice ringing loudly now. "What a disgrace!" And Petyr looked at the ground solemnly.

"Tell me, anyone else want his job?" Tobias offered. Nobody said a word. " _Nobody_?" Tobias looked genuinely surprised when nobody spoke up, but Selene wasn't. The village had been ran by the same family for generations. A new leader from a new family? It wasn't anything anybody had ever fathomed. They were too used to obeying the same cruel family. It was incomprehensible for them.

"Fine," Tobias said, sighing as he put his hands in his pockets with a lazy shrug. He looked down at Petyr. Petyr's arms were shaking. "If your village members really want someone who eats horse shit as their tribal leader, I'm not going to stop them, Petyr." _Petyr_. It was the first time he had ever said his name. Petyr twitched.

"Anything else, my lord?" Petyr said through his clenched teeth. Tobias flashed him a smile with his sharp teeth.

"Yes," Tobias said. "Some warmth. Show me where this pointless meeting will be held, Pollux. And bring us some food while you're at it."

~*~ discidium ~

"Before I give you anything, I want reports," Tobias said. His leg was draping over one of the arms on his chair lazily as he picked at his nails. Petyr upper lip was curled up.

"Reports? My people are starving!" Petyr snarled back but Tobias didn't even glance up at him. Instead, his eyes lingered at a young boy in the corner who was continuously giving him wine. Every time the boy poured him a cup, Tobias would make a sly comment about how when that boy comes of age, Tobias is giving the village to him. Whether it was to irk Petyr or not, it was sure as hell working. To Selene's delight, Petyr still had a bit of dung on his face. Tobias had rushed him into the room so rapidly that Petyr didn't even have the ability to wash off fully before the meeting began. Clearly, it was intentional.

"Maybe they're starving because you won't give him the reports," Leon chortled. Tobias didn't acknowledge him but Selene knew, deep down, Tobias was chuckling.

"Fine, I'll give you some reports…" Petyr grumbled, not without shooing the young servant back to his corner when he reached to refill Selene's cup. "We have two boys, sixteen years old, who have mastered nine out of the ten exercises that the fourth-tier war camp requires them to know by this Fall." Though Tobias didn't reflect anything that showed he was impressed, Selene's eyebrows rose.

"And how many hours have they been training in the last week?" Tobias drawled. Petyr cleared his throat.

"Fifty hours-"

" _Fifty_ hours?" Tobias shot up in his chair jerkily. His face tightened. "Your top fighters know nine out of the ten exercises that are required of them to leave this village and they're only doing fifty hours a week?!" Petyr blinked at him rapidly.

"Well, this week has been…unique," Petyr said carefully. Sweat had begun to trickle down his neck and Selene noticed how he had gone extremely tense. For some reason, Petyr was very determined not to look at Selene.

"How is the seven days that I've given you to breathe air this week unique?" Tobias demanded. "Nothing should be unique in this damn village. Every breath your people inhale is in honor of me which means the duties I give you is a number one priority. What the hell is more important than that?" Petyr choked on his words for a moment, stumbling.

"I-Well, it's not necessarily more important than you, we just had a lot of village ceremonies this week," Petyr squeaked. Tobias blinked at him impatiently.

"Village ceremonies?" Leon muttered under his breath, laughing. "What the fuck do you do here? You're in the middle of the mountains." Tobias looked at Selene pointedly.

"He means sacrifices," Selene interrupted. Petyr paled. "It's informal, to say the least. They hunt their own people for sport. Finding arbitrary reasons to lynch their own tribal members, checking random girls so that they can find a reason to slice off their wings, so on. And afterword, they take whatever food they can find from the victim's family and celebrate." Petyr was grasping the table desperately, sweat pouring down his forehead. Rosalie's mouth was ajar in disgust.

"So you're wasting time I'm giving you to clip wings?" Her husband repeated at him. "Am I supposed to give you sympathy?"

"It's our culture," Petyr tried to explain earnestly. Selene snorted under her breath, Rosalie rolled her eyes and Leon blinked at Petyr impatiently. Tobias didn't so much as twitch,

"Your culture is to breed Illyrians so I can use them in battle," Tobias corrected. "You want to cripple your women? Do it during your precious holidays. Do not waste my days, the days I grant you mercilessly to train your boys, to commit such pointless acts." Petyr's eyes narrowed.

"Maybe I can train them more if I had some damn food to give them," Petyr spat at him. Tobias's eyebrows raised, as if impressed by his unexpected bravery. Tobias eyes draped over Petyr, looking his body over. He was thin, yes, but he didn't look starving and Tobias obviously saw that.

His head whipped towards to the boy in the corner.

"You," he said, nodding his head. "When's the last time you served your oh-so-great tribal leader?" The boy, no older than ten, hesitated. He didn't have the same fear that majority of people did because he didn't understand the powers Tobias possessed but at the same time, the boy had common sense.

"This morning," the boy murmured quietly. Petyr's face twisted in fury and the boy flinched back.

"When's the last time you ate?" And the words came from Leon. His words were quiet, gentle.

"Yesterday," the boy said, quieter. Petyr showed his teeth but Tobias growled at him.

"He's lying!" Petyr bellowed. Tobias's eyes were merciless as he nailed on him.

"Is he? Because my wife was awfully skinny when she arrived at the Night Court," Tobias said dryly. Petyr was quiet for a moment.

"Believe the boy's lies if you will, but the truth is that we are all starving. You won't even-" And then Tobias snapped his fingers. Within a moment, the table was flooded with food. From assortments of bread, already-cut meat, to fruits and vegetables that couldn't ever be found in these mountains. There were a wide range of nuts that could feed a whole family for a week and cans of various soups that would keep the village alive throughout the entire winter. Petyr's eyes enlarged but only Selene knew why. Petyr wasn't going to share this – he wasn't going to ration this out to the rest of the village, separating it all equally. He and his friends would, instead, feast on it for the next week until there was nothing left.

Selene opened her mouth, "Tobias, don't believe-" But then the young boy came into view. Though small, he managed to grab one of large loafs and headed towards the door.

"Hey, that's stealing," Petyr roared. Selene saw what was going to happen before anybody in the room could even comprehend what was going on. She reached across the table, trying to grab Petyr's arm, but it was too late. Petyr gripped one of the knives from his belt and swung it towards the child. The child stood at the back door, his mouth open, and Leon even tried yanking the knife from his hand but Petyr flung out faster than Leon could predict.

"No!" Selene yelled, diving in front of the knife, but it merely scraped the side of her arm. She yelped in pain, staggering but then she heard a high-pitched inhale. Selene turned around.

A knife was sticking out of his throat. Selene's mouth went to her lips.

"What the fuck was that?" Leon spat in disgust. "He was just a kid!" Selene didn't turn around to look at Petyr. Instead, her eyes stayed on the boy.

"He was just hungry," Selene whispered under her breath, her teeth jittering. "He just wanted food."

"You killed a boy," Tobias snarled behind her. "Do you understand what that means? I am one boy shorter. One boy less in my Illyrian army." As Tobias's words rang, Selene found herself inching towards the boy.

"My High Lord-" The boy looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping. Like he was just taking a light nap.

"Your village will pay for this, Petyr. They will pay." She fell to her knees, her shaking fingers reaching for him. She yanked the knife from his neck, thrusting it away from them.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. Please, my high lord…"

"Or maybe I should just let my wife deal with you since apparently my words aren't enough."

"Your words are more than-"

"Do you see my beloved wife? She's trying to fix your mistakes by trying to resurrect him. Unfortunately, she is yet to understand that the boy is better off dead than be in your foolish hands." His body was still warm, his blood still spilling out as if his body was yet to realize that he was gone.

"We are leaving, my love. Come on." Her fingers gripped onto the boy's shirt tightly, praying to whatever gods that existed to fix this. Promising that she would hold onto him until he came back inside his body, until he breathed again. If they just performed this one miracle…

" _Selene_? I said we're leaving."

"Selene." But she didn't move. She didn't even look up at him. Her breath was shivering as the hot tears fell down her cheeks.

He walked towards her carefully, crouching down. He didn't dare touch her.

"Selene," his voice soft now. "He's gone. It's time to go home."

"A child is dead," she whispered. She looked up at him. His eyes were dark, twirling and twisting. There was no sympathy. Instead, there was confusion. Confusion on why she was on her knees, why she was gripping onto the boy, and how to respond to such a behavior. And for just a moment, as he searched for the answers, she began to believe he saw what she was seeing. That he was feeling what she was feeling. That he finally digested the horror in front of him as well.

But then he said, flat without meaning, "It's time to go home."

~*~*~ discidium ~*~

I really want some feedback from this chapter. There was boring parts, yes, but I'd like to know people's opinions. Gimme something. Or at least tell me if you want me to continue. Remember, if you don't comment you don't get more ;)


	9. Chapter 9

"No, no-" Someone was pulling her away, their thick hands clamped over her shoulder protectively. She walked out of the hut dizzily, wobbling down the gravel pathway through the square.

"At least give back the food!" The voice called out to them. "My High Lord-" Finally, the person holding her shoulders let go and swiveled around. She felt herself stumble forward, nearly falling from the pressure the person had put on her. She could feel dozens of eyes on her, on them, as they stopped walking towards the exit. But her eyes only focused vaguely on the gravel.

"Food?" The second voice laughed. "You will get no food, Petyr. You will never get food from me. Your village…" And the voice trailed off behind her but she stopped listening. Someone stepped next to her.

"Are you okay?" The voice whispered, fear leaking out of the person's tone. "Are you-" But then her fingers latched onto the person's thin wrist. She heard a breath exhale out of the person next to her. Finally, Selene looked up. Her lady-in-waiting had tears in her eyes as she stayed next to her, her body shivering as well.

"Selene, everything is going to be okay," Rosalie said in a small voice. "Everything…"

"You're going to starve us because of one boy? He was a peasant!" Petyr roared behind them. Despite Rosalie's efforts for her to stay forward, to not look back, Selene ripped away from her and turned around. Petyr was a good six feet away from her husband, shaking in anger. Her husband merely stood still, listening to Petyr's rant impatiently. Probably thinking, Selene thought, all the ways to kill him.

"Rhysand," Selene spoke up. Tobias and Petyr looked over at her jerkily. Petyr's lips curled upward.

"What?" He snarled. But Selene didn't even hesitate.

"The boy's name was Rhysand," She said, loud enough for the rest of the square to hear. "That was the boy's name. That was the boy who had the bravery to stand up to you. Who had the balls to do something instead of waiting for his loser tribal chief to care. Who had the heart of a fighter. Who you murdered in cold blood." And then Selene was walking towards him now, her back straightening. Her hands were no longer shaking and her body had stopped feeling like it was going to puke. Instead, there was a spark spreading inside of her.

As Selene surpassed Tobias, Petyr's body tightened.

"You piece of trash," Petyr snarled, now within a three foot distance from her. "This is because of you. All of this is because of you. If you had just followed the rules, did as you were told, chose to be normal, none of this would have happened." But Selene didn't even blink. She held his eyes, his grey eyes, with pride.

"I don't care what you think of me," Selene let out honestly. "I didn't care what your son thought of me either. And when his blood rained down on me, when he exploded into mist, I felt alive for the first time in eighteen years." Petyr inhaled raggedly. He looked like he could've hit her – like he was ready to do whatever he wanted to do to her all this time. But his body was shaking too hard to even stand on his legs without wobbling.

"He'll see through you one day," Petyr said, laughing manically as he showed his yellow, disgusting teeth. "He'll see that you're just a worthless girl who will never blend into the Night Court. Who'll never be the wife he needs to rule. You're a fake." And for whatever reason, Tobias still hadn't jumped in. And Selene began to realize why.

"Perhaps," Selene said softly – too softly, "But until then, your village will burn." And Tobias knew what to do. Before Petyr could respond, with his eyes filled with confusion, the hut they had just come out of busted into flames. Beside it, Petyr's home became inflamed as well. And the fire spread throughout the square too fast for it to be natural, burning each home that had belonged to a leader in the village. The common people began to flee, screaming as they ran to their homes at a distance. Finally, the post that Petyr's son had tied her to bursted into flames as well. Fire burned around her, around them. And she watched as the post fell.

She looked at her husband. His eyes were twinkling, a dark blackness that she finally understood. Carefully, she took his hand.

"Let's go home."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"You have a visitor." It was noon. Tobias had gotten out of bed earlier, mumbling about something she didn't know nor care about. She had heard Rosalie's voice argue with Tobias outside of their bedroom multiple times since he had gotten up, but it wasn't until Tobias went downstairs to meet with the visitor did Rosalie barge into their bedroom without an invitation.

"I'm relaxing today," Selene uttered. She could tell by the look on Rosalie's face that she was surprised to even see her awake. Though Selene was still in bed, she was sitting up comfortably and drawing on a piece of paper that she had found in the drawer next to her. She wasn't necessarily good at it, but it was calming. Tranquil.

"You're wallowing," Rosalie corrected, worry flashing in her eyes. "Just because Tobias is too dull-"

"Don't insult my husband." Rosalie stopped speaking immediately, her body straightening as she closed the door behind her. Carefully, she got into the bed next to her, sitting at where Selene's husband normally slept.

"You're naked," Rosalie noticed. Selene didn't respond. "Its midday and you're not even wearing clothes. Fuck, Selene, I'm worried about you." Selene's eyes flickered at her impatiently.

"If this is about yesterday-"

"A boy died. He _died_. Of course you're upset. And, no offense, but Tobias doesn't understand that and he never will. He just doesn't think that way. But I know that you do, and I'm not going to let you fall apart." And when Selene looked at her, Rosalie had tears in her eyes. She was truly worried about her, Selene thought. Not in the same way that Tobias was worried, at least.

"We have a visitor?" Selene asked curiously, putting down the pencil and paper beside her. Rosalie nodded, a small smile appearing on her face. Selene sighed, getting out of the bed and walking towards the wardrobe. When Selene started sleeping in Tobias's room consistently, he bought her a second wardrobe to put casual clothes in. Most of the things weren't for formal occasions, but there was a fair share of beautiful dresses.

"I would suggest this," Rosalie advised, taking out the dress. "It would fit nicely." And Selene liked it. It was a thin, silk dress with a halter top that started as a rich, royal purple but by the time it hit the bottom of the dress, where the dress tickled the ground, it was black. There was a slit on the side of the dress and the dress showed off her breasts in a sexy manner. Despite the silk, it didn't appear too formal. It was casual enough to meet someone downstairs. Without second guessing, she put on the dress, allowing Rosalie to zip it up and fix it on her.

By the time she walked downstairs, she found Tobias sipping on a strong alcoholic drink in the living room. He was leaning against the alcoholic cart casually, as if waiting for his visitor to come back. He was indulging in a new bottle – a bottle she hadn't recognized before. When his eyes noticed her on the landing though, he coughed into his drink.

"Rosalie picked that out, didn't she?" It wasn't necessarily in disapproval, but he said it with a tired sigh. She smiled.

"When you two are together, you do understand it's impossible to tame you, right?" He asked, shaking his head lightly. He took another sip of his drink, but she saw the small smile he had on his lips. But then a distinct voice spoke behind her.

"I think it looks powerful." Quickly, Selene stumbled around to meet the visitor's eyes. She stiffened. She was scarily beautiful. She was tall and willowy, her large breasts showing off just as much as Selene's and she was wearing a fiery red dress, decorated with tiny crystals that tickled the ground as well. Her red hair, so dark it was practically brown, was tossed in an elegant knot with various curls bouncing out. Her face was severe – oval shaped with distinct cheekbones. Her eyes were like dark almonds, almost infuriating. Dangerous. Selene felt the hairs on the back of her neck perk up.

The woman put her hand in front of her. Her smile stretched across her face. At first, Selene didn't even breathe. She could feel Tobias smiling, a thing he rarely expressed in front of visitors.

"Clythia. I come from the kingdom of Hybern," she greeted, showing her pointed teeth. There was a slight accent in her voice. "You must be the beautiful Selene. Your husband had told me many generous things about you." Selene didn't shake it. Instead, her eyes flickered at it and then back at Clythia's face. There was something distrustful about the woman, something that made Selene repulsed.

"I better not," Selene said, flashing a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I have pencil shavings on my hands. But it is nice to meet you." The last part came out strained and she was sure the red-headed woman heard it. But nothing changed on the gorgeous woman's face.

"Very well," Clythia replied, her hands falling to her side. She had a long, slithery smile. "And is that your mortal?" Selene turned around as Tobias let out a low groan. Rosalie was walking down the stairs elegantly, her long flowing hair covering her pointed ears. Even in a plain white dress, she looked like an angel. It was supposed to be modest, not showing an inch of her upper half, but her breasts spilled out sloppily and the straps fell off her shoulders. The dress cut off along her thighs unevenly. Clythia looked like she was trying to suppress a laugh.

"Mortal?" Selene chirped. "What do you mean?" And she noticed how Tobias stiffened.

"Some kingdoms use them," Tobias explained rapidly before Clythia could explain, clearly not wanting to get into the subject. "They use mortals as helpers." At first Selene tilted her head in confusion, but then she understood the meaning beyond his words. _Slaves._ Her eyes widened as she looked back at Clythia. Clythia fluttered her heavy-lidded eyes.

"And you don't?" Clythia asked Tobias interestingly, growing closer to him. "How do you live without them?" There was a hint of awe in her voice as she lingered close to him, her large eyes filled with wonder. He reflected her awe with a dangerous smirk.

"We hire fae," A new voice interrupted. Rosalie had finally gotten to Selene's side, hovering a few inches away. People turned to look at Leon at the entry way, his hair wet as if he had just gotten out of a bath.

"You hire fae," Clythia repeated to herself, the words marveling on her tongue as it were a foreign language. "Interesting…" Tobias cleared his throat quickly.

"Some courts around us still use them," Tobias explained, "But they breed too fast and die too soon for us to find any use for them long-term. My father banned it early in his reign so that he wouldn't have to deal with possible issues concerning the practice." Clythia's eyes were glittering brightly.

"So what do you do then?" She persisted eagerly, her words hungry for more. "If the mortals wander over here, mingle with you all, what do you do?"

"We kill them," Leon said dryly. "Or at least someone does. Usually they don't make it too far into the kingdom." And by the tone in Leon's voice, it was decided that the conversation was over. There would be no more talk of this. Clythia's long smile shifted into a nervous one. Her hand ran through one of the dangling curls surrounding her faces, blushing lightly.

"I'm sorry if I-"

"No," Tobias said, shaking his head as he turned towards the alcohol cart. Selene blinked rapidly at his kind tone. As his cheeks glowed, he picked up the new bottle he had poured from earlier. Selene, as her eyes lingered on it, realized it was foreign. "Don't. I don't blame you for being interested in our culture." Tobias shifted towards Selene, handing her a drink – something that smelled too strong for her liking. Maybe not even strong, she decided. But different, it smelled different.

He then looked at Clythia.

"Clythia, do you want me to pour you a cup?" The offer was formal, professional, but the way her name rang off his tongue made Selene's blink rapidly. He had a small smile on his lips.

" _Clythia_ can pour her own damn cup," Rosalie muttered coolly. Selene's eyes shot at her pointedly but she had to admit, the effort was half-hearted. Whether or not Clythia heard Rosalie's comment, Tobias and Leon surely didn't.

"I would love one, thank you, Tobias," Clythia replied sweetly. _Tobias._ The way she said his name made Selene run cold. Tobias turned to his side, leaning on the court as he poured a quick drink and passed it to her. And as Clythia took the drink, Clythia met Selene's gaze briefly, smiling.

"Why are you here?" Selene said aloud, before Clythia could take a sip. It wasn't necessarily purposeful, but she didn't regret it when it slipped out. "If you are from Hybern, why the hell are you at the Night Court?" Tobias's eyes shot towards her warningly, but her eyes were unyielding when she looked at Clythia. Clythia pursed her long lips.

"My sister, Amarantha, is a general in King Hybern's army, as am I," Clythia said highly, her chin rising. Selene's eyes flickered towards Tobias. He was starting to look dazed as his eyes stayed on their guest.

"And I can fly in the sky," Selene shot back. "But that doesn't explain _why I am here_." Clythia blinked, shuttering her heavy eyelids for a moment.

"Then let's sit," Clythia said tightly. "And we can talk about what I want."  
~*~ Discidium ~*~ 

They had found themselves where Tobias had hosted the annual meeting. Selene sat beside Tobias, Rosalie sat beside Selene, Leon sat next to Clythia and Clythia sat across from Tobias. Tobias had taken in the large bottle of foreign alcohol that he had poured earlier. Apparently, it was a gift from Clythia's sister, Amarantha.

"I have looked into the details of your court," Clythia said, pulling out a long parchment. "You have high masses of obsidian, a wondrous supply of herbs and spices in the mountains, low crime rates, an amazing amount of wildlife considering the freezing temperatures, a decent birth rate and your military…it's impressive, to say the least." Tobias leaned back in his chair, the tip of his mouth curving upward as he took a sip of his alcohol.

"You've done your research," Tobias cooed, his dark eyes gleaming. From across the table, Selene noticed Leon's eyebrows furrow down, though she felt like it wasn't towards Clythia.

"In the years to come, our kingdom has goals," Clythia responded slowly. "One of which is carving out our dragon stone mountains and starting an industry for it." Tobias's smile had disappeared now, his face looming with shadows. Clythia hesitated for a moment, but then continued.

"Dragon stone-"

"I know what dragon stone does," Tobias cut her off, his voice suddenly icy. "My father was obsessed with it. He thought it would revolutionize our court. Bring in tons of money, tons of power, but he could never find a way to get it out. He found it was a lost cause. But you already knew that." Leon coughed, looking between the two leaders jumpily. Clythia's face flushed, shocked by Tobias's cutthroat deductions. But then Clythia's smile lengthened.

"We got it out," Clythia said, her eyes glistening. "We found a way, Tobias." At first, Tobias didn't even move. He looked at her, and then looked at Leon. Leon didn't say a word. If anything, he didn't even look impressed. As if he considering the possibility was too absurd to even pretend.

"Prove it," Tobias said finally. Clythia's blinked, as if those words were the last she ever expected to hear.

"Prove it?" She repeated, and before he could reply she took one of her rings of her finger and handed it to him. "What does this look like to you, High Lord?" He took the ring in his hands carefully, putting it to his face. It had a silver band with a large oval stone. At first sight, it looked blue but when Selene looked deeper there was a rainbow glistening. Leon's face twisted, as if a new horror had overcame him. Tobias's whole body had stiffened when he realized what it was, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"How," Tobias whispered, and then said loudly to Clythia, " _How_?" Selene could feel a hotness burn at her fingertips, like a rush running through her. Clythia looked triumph from across the table as she took in Tobias's eager face.

"White steel," Clythia replied softly, and she took the bottle of alcohol and poured some into Tobias's dry cup. "It's a metal we have at Hybern. We tried it against the surface about halfway into the mountain – not the base, like you have been trying. We go in at a specific angle, depending on the mountain, and we get through." Tobias's elbows were leaning on the table readily.

"And that steel – white steal, you say, got the dragon stone out fully?" Tobias asked, his dark eyes spinning. "That's…" And Selene had never heard him struggle to finish a sentence. He looked spun up, maybe even obsessive. Her eyes shot towards Leon, who hadn't moved an inch. He was looking at Clythia seriously, not a hint of temptation on his face.

"And why," Leon said slowly, "are you telling us this?" And then Leon's words seemed to calm Tobias down. He leaned farther back in his seat, taking a swig of his drink.

"Because you need my steel," Clythia said, fluttering her eyes again. Selene leaned closer, her eyes narrowing.

"And you?" Selene asked coldly. "What do _you_ need, Clythia?" Clythia looked at her sharply, pausing before she replied.

"Our population is ninety percent mortal," Clythia began, her voice pompous as she responded to her. "While that gives us luxuries, mortals don't have the physical capacity to get the stone out. Even with these tools, they wouldn't be able to hold onto them. They're too weak of a species." Selene's eyebrows went up slowly.

"So, you have nobody to mine it out?" Selene simplified, her voice growing dryer.

"Another reason to not use slavery," Leon muttered.

"We need manpower," Clythia said, as if neither had even spoken. "Mountains that carry dragon stone are too steep to carry machinery up. You though, Tobias, have…what are they called again? Ollyians?"

"Illyrians," Selene corrected.

"We have those," Tobias responded fast. "I can have them out by tomorrow morning. How many do you need to do this deal, Clythia?" Tobias's eyes were glistering, nailing on Clythia as if she was the weapon he always wanted. As if _she_ was what would solve all of the Night Court's problems. Clythia's smile turned venomous and Leon, who was yet to fall for Clythia's charm, looked flabbergasted.

"Are you fucking mad? We aren't giving her our people, Tobias," Leon hissed. But Tobias didn't so much as look at him when he replied. He continued to stare into Clythia's eyes, his face filled with delight.

"Nonsense, Leon. She seems like a worthy ally."

"An _ally_? We haven't had an ally in two hundred years! The Night Court doesn't make allies!"

"Maybe it's time for a change then. We need to embrace these beautiful women who are coming to power," Tobias announced. Rosalie, next to Selene, rolled her eyes.

"Maybe we don't need to embrace all of them just yet, Tobias," Selene whispered to him, her eyes cold as he looked back at her. When he met her eyes, nothing shined. It was like he was looking at a wall.

"Get in bed with me on this, Tobias, and we can be rulers over this entire world as king and queen," Clythia continued. And then, just like that, the whole table aside from Tobias had gone anti-Clythia. _King and Queen?_

"We are not-"

"Are you the ruler?" Clythia snapped at Leon. Leon flinched back, blinking at her rapidly. He turned to Tobias, who was still looking at Clythia like she was gold.

"What did you just say to me?" Leon hissed. Tobias's face tightened at his words.

"I asked you if you were a ruler. Are you the High Lord of Night?" Clythia asked, and Selene could see how the beautiful woman could be a general. She wasn't dangerous physically, but her persona, her ability to control even the darkest of lords, was admirable. Leon didn't respond, but he looked like he was close to blowing up. He sunk deeper in his chair, his eyes like daggers. Silence barred between them.

"In our court, he is higher ranked than a general," Selene informed her tightly. Clythia's dagger like stare turned to her. "And I, as the High Lord's _Lady_ , agree with the emissary."

"Quiet, Selene," she heard a husky voice snarl. "I apologize for my wife's behavior. She is a peasant Illyrian herself. She doesn't understand our goals, our world." Selene turned to her husband, her eyes wide. Though heat flooded her face, she didn't stammer.

"I understand clearly," Selene spat. "And the last time I checked, _you_ need _my_ verification to do anything if it effects my lands." Tobias laughed through his nose. The hair on Selene's arms went up.

"If you really believe those are _your_ lands, that your words hold anything, you're a bigger fool than I thought you were." And it felt like a slap in the face. She shuddered back, shifting herself as far from Tobias as possible in her seat. Her mouth was ajar. Leon was clutching his chair angrily.

"Finally, I found someone who understands. Someone who sees how a heart should beat," Tobias said in awe as his eyes went over Clythia. "Tell me, Clythia, let me show you my ancestors. Let me show you their dreams so we can integrate them into ours." And then Tobias got up from his seat with his drink in his hand and walked over to Clythia. He helped her out of her chair elegantly, holding onto her hand as he did so, and as she loomed over all of them, she smirked victoriously.

"We'll be right back," She said, smirking at the rest of them as she grabbed onto the bottle of alcohol and her own cup.

"Oh, let me take that," Tobias said to her, grabbing onto the alcohol bottle. "I don't want to burden you."  
~*~ discidium ~*~

Nobody spoke at first. When Tobias and Clythia left, there was a long silence.

"What do we do?" Leon finally blurted. He first looked to Selene, whose arms were crossed against her chest tightly, and then quickly to Rosalie.

"About the fact that my husband replaced me with a general who wants to take over the world with him by exploiting my people?" Selene asked him. "Maybe you both should tell me what is going on with him because I have never seen him like this. Never, Leon. You two know him better than anyone else. What is wrong with him?" And when she looked at the both of them, her eyes were hard. She wasn't asking as a friend, she was asking as their lady.

"I wouldn't say he replaced you," Leon said carefully, flashing a nervous smile. "More like…marveled."

"Marveled?" Selene asked impatiently. "Are you telling me my husband completely embarrassed me in front of a world leader simply because he was _marveled_? That he forgot I was his wife because of a form of admiration?" Leon's nervous smile grew.

"It's temporary, is what I'm saying," Leon said, and Selene felt the anger rise in her as the words hit her. She was about to speak but then Rosalie huffed.

"Temporary? Like when he brought me to the Summer Court and replaced me with some merchant's daughter and I didn't see him for three whole days?" Rosalie spoke up.

"To be fair," Leon said, pointing a finger, "he did tell you not go." But then Rosalie's eyes were blazing.

"I was his _date_!" Rosalie fumed. "Of course I was going to go." Leon sighed tiredly, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I'm not saying he's right," Leon declared innocently. "I'm just saying, it's temporary. He's not going to replace you. He's just having a moment." But when he said it, there was hesitance in his voice. Selene's eyebrows perked up, glaring at him harshly.

"Plus, you're far prettier than her, Selene. It's no competiti-"

"I don't care if I'm prettier, Leon," Selene snapped. "I want my voice to be heard. I don't want to be silenced, I don't want to be ignored, and I sure as hell don't want to be replaced. Even if it is _temporary_." Leon let out a deep breath. But deep down, even though the anger was unbearable, a lot of it was pain. A lot of it was sadness because Tobias could just look away within a moment. That, if somebody prettier, more powerful, walked into the room, she was nothing. She was just a peasant Illyrian whose opinion was arbitrary.

"Unless you want to kill her-"

"Is that an option?" Rosalie said, her large green eyes blinking. "Because I have no issue with it."

"No killing," Leon said fast, his eyes growing wider, "No murdering a general of Hybern. That-that is not a good idea."

"He looked at me like I was nothing, like I was just space," Selene said, her teeth clenched. "He's never done that…I just don't understand."

"He's excited," Leon said, his voice tight now. "My father obsessed over dragon stone and if Tobias is the one who is capable of getting it out, it'll be a spit on his grave. Tobias will win." The anger in Selene's face had dropped.

"He'll win? He disliked his father so much that his reign is a competition with a dead man?" Selene said, her voice filled with disbelief. "That's…"

"They didn't have a great relationship," Leon said, shrugging lightly. Selene's eyes narrowed on him. Suddenly, a chill went through her.

"How did you father die?" Selene heard herself ask, her voice quiet. "Tobias didn't…?" Leon's eyes flashed.

"No," Leon said sharply, "No, of course not. My father…he was murdered. But the culprit was never found." Selene shook her head slowly.

"But Tobias found him," Selene said, her voice distant. "He was the one who found him dead. I saw it." Leon's eyes flashed.

"You saw it?" Leon repeated. "What do you mean-"

And then a scream interrupted his words. A high pitched scream. At first, nobody even moved.

"Was that…?"

"Clythia, I think." And they all looked between each other curiously, waiting. Rosalie shrugged lazily.

"Would it be bad if we just-"

"Yes, it would be bad!" Leon said, getting out his chair. "Plus, I mean, what if _Tobias_ is hurt?" And then Rosalie and Selene jumped from their seats.

"Tobias is hurt?" Selene repeated loudly. Quickly, they rushed out of the room, going down the hall together. But then words were let out at a distance, yelping almost.

"What the hell are you trying to do? I have a _wife!_ " They all froze, looking in all different direction as his voice echoed throughout the palace.

"The library!" Rosalie exclaimed. "They said they were going to library!" Within a few seconds, they had made it to the library entrance but then they all gasped.

"What the…" Selene couldn't even feel her own body. In front of her, the duo were together. Her eyes fell to Clythia immediately, who was on her knees on the ground. The top of her risqué dress was flapped off, her large breasts pointing in opposite directions. She was clenching one of her cheeks which was burned red. Tobias was a few feet away from her, his eyes wide and one of his palms out and the other hand clenching his cup. He didn't even seem to notice when the three of them entered the library, staring in horror. Instead, he looked terrified himself. And then Selene finally caught grasp of why the Lady General was on her knees.

"Was she…" Rosalie's voice lingered.

But the most surprising part was that, even with his pants still on, it was obvious that he was aroused. Yet, he still had no interest getting favored by the Lady General. Selene supposed that she should've been angry as well, but she was so in shock that, despite his physical interest and the likeliness that he would've gotten away with it, he had still turned her down. Maybe even humored.

Clythia scrambled off her knees, her face becoming redder as she eyed the small crowd around her. As she backed away, she attempted to, and failed, to fix her dress. Tobias had shoved himself against the bookcase, as if to get as far away from her as possible. He looked like he was about to get ill. Leon, as Clythia tried to regain her composure, looked at Clythia's cup of alcohol curiously. It was resting on top of one of the shelves and while Clythia was distracted, Leon grabbed it. When Leon took hold of it, Clythia inhaled raggedly. She tried snagging it back but he pulled it out of reaching distance easily, making her stumble on her dress.

"This smells like…" Leon started vaguely, but then his eyes widened and he yanked the other cup from Tobias's hands at lightning speed, throwing it at the far wall. It shattered. "That has love dust in it!" Tobias looked at Leon with his upper lip curled up and then to Clythia.

"Is this true?" Tobias said slowly, his voice filled with more hurtful betrayal than anger. A reaction that didn't hold to Tobias's persona at all. Clythia, despite her fearful portrayal, stammered.

"I have no idea what your-" And then Tobias took hold of the bottle itself, taking in a good sniff. Instantly, his face contorted.

"Love dust?" Selene whispered to Leon quickly. Leon was suppressing a smile.

"It's like a love portion of sorts," Leon said, his face turning red in amusement. "I guess now we understand why Tobias found her so alluring." But Tobias was still standing, his eyes slightly dazed and trying his best to loom over the Lady General dangerously. Unfortunately, his usual ruthless glare didn't seem to hold when he looked at her.

"I am the High Lord of N-Night!" Clythia's smile reappeared slowly. She stood on her feet steadily, growing closer to him. She had barely covered his breasts, with her dress still flapping out awkwardly. His eyes dangled at them immediately but then he looked away, wincing as he did so.

"In my kingdom, we celebrate our alliances with sexual relations. I didn't know the Night Court didn't hold the same traditions." And then Tobias contortion of rage disappeared and a look of sympathy, _sympathy_ of all things, replaced it. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then Leon stepped between them.

"Tobias, she is lying. She wanted to get you into bed so that you can replace sweet Selene with her and then use you to take over the world," Leon interrupted gently, and then turned to Clythia with a smile, "Clythia, while this has been a joy, I am going to have to politely ask you to leave. I had just remembered that our magnificent High Lord has some…paperwork to attend to. After he is done, I am sure he'll send you a letter informing you of his final decision." Clythia blinked at him stupidly. For the first time all day, Selene wanted to laugh.

"You're…you do know I'm a Lady General, right?" She stammered. Her hands formed into tight balls. "You can't kick me out. You're just some emissary." Leon's smile dropped, a redness flushing over him and his body stiffening at her words. Quickly, Selene walked into her view.

"No, he can't, but I am the Lady of this household," Selene told her, "And since my beloved husband is preoccupied-" She looked towards Tobias, who was clutching the bookcase tightly as he swayed. Clearly, the drink wasn't sitting with him well. "I am readily available and willing to use every resource that is beheld in this estate to drive you out." Again, Clythia blinked at her stupidly. She then looked at Leon, her mouth open, and then eyed Rosalie.

"Don't bother," Clythia spat finally. "The Night Court can burn for all I care. You will regret this." And when she turned away, strutting out of the library room with Leon at her heels, presumably to lead her to the front door, Selene turned to look at Tobias. He was still clutching the bookcase in a death-like grip, trying to muster an innocent smile but instead looked distorted on his sallow face.

"Is she gone?" Tobias asked desperately, his voice close to a whisper. Selene was still, eyeing him seriously. She found, as she stared into his dark eyes, that she wasn't as irked as she expected herself to be. It was hard to be, at least, when your husband was drunk off love dust.

Leon came to view a few moments later, not bothering to hide his smirk any longer.

Without looking at Selene, he asked her as his eyes nailed on Tobias, "What should we do to him?" As if on cue, Tobias sniffled, his dark eyes watering. Selene grimaced at him.

"Are you _crying_?"

"No," he flared, though half-heartedly, "I just …I thought Clythia and I had something going, Selene. I can't believe she would lie to me, after everything we went through." Selene's eyes narrowed as he stumbled towards her, clutching her neck tightly. As he bawled, her arms stayed limply at her sides.

"I feel like this substance may take a while to get out of his system," Selene said dryly. "Leon, would you…?" Leon's smile lengthened.

"My pleasure," He replied. Before Tobias could look up, Leon yanked him away from her and arched his shoulder back, hitting Tobias square in the face. He banged against the bookshelf painfully, his eyes already closed by the time he hit the floor. The three of them crowded around him quickly, eyeing the High Lord.

"Well, I guess that's one way to do it," Rosalie muttered.

~*~ discidium ~*~ 

"You're awake." It had been hours since they had put Tobias into his bed. Selene had quietly refused to spend the night with him, assuming that he would be better off in his bed alone than sharing one with her. Nevertheless, she was earnest in checking on him periodically. Though, when the moon was at its peak and Selene had quietly tiptoed through the hall to go check up on him for the third time, she heard some movement downstairs. Quietly, and apprehensively, she followed the faint shuffling of papers and stumbling footsteps. When she found herself stepping into Tobias's study, she paused. Awkwardly, she tightened the cotton robe around her, crossing her arms against her chest tightly.

He looked up at her with owl-like eyes. He was shirtless with only the pants he had been wearing earlier and his hair was ruffled messily. One of his hands was clinging to his head as he winced at her, the other holding onto a number of pieces of parchment. Before he had noticed her, he was leaning over his desk studiously, looking at a range of papers that were scattered around him.

"Rough day?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"Certainly one of my top ten," Tobias grumbled. But then a softness flushed over his face. "And you? How was your day?" And this time his voice shifted. From a cranky young High Lord to a self-conscious lover who couldn't say the words that Selene knew he was wondering. She was tempted to laugh at the awkwardness that had hung in his voice, as if anything concerning feelings was too foreign for him to converse about. Yet, he looked so unconcealed. So…guilty.

"Enlightening," she decided. She grew closer to him. With each step, a little bit more color came to his face.

"Enlightening?" He said, a dark eyebrow popping up. "How so?" And she was behind the desk with him now, holding onto her small smile.

"That my husband would turn down a glorious blow job from one of the most powerful generals known to man, simply because he loves his peasant wife," Selene said, stifling a laugh, but then his smile dropped. His eyes grew darker, piercing her.

"I didn't mean that," he said, his voice firm. "You couldn't have actually believed that I meant that." And then her smile dropped as well and she felt herself exhale. Because, in her lowest point, she couldn't say otherwise. She couldn't look at him and say that she wasn't a peasant, that she was more than just his wife.

"If you are a peasant, Selene," he said, his voice rasp, "then I am twice that. If you are a fool, then I am damned in this world and whatever lays after because your words are godly to me. And I don't care who's sitting on the other side – Clythia, or her sister, or their dull-witted king. You will always be more important because before you, I was just a breathing corpse rotting on a throne. And I didn't even know it." And Selene was quiet for a moment. She pushed down the lump in her throat, taking a breath.

"I still believed you loved me," Selene whispered, and he slackened. "That's what you wanted to ask wasn't it? If I ever stopped believing that you loved me. I didn't, Tobias." He took in a cool breath.

"Good, because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you didn't know I loved you," Tobias admitted coarsely. "I could live with you not loving me, but…not if you believed that I didn't love you."

"Don't worry about that," Selene said, a small smile on her lips.

"Leon and Rosalie," he said quietly, "they didn't…?" Selene shook her head quickly.

"Clythia never offered a drink to either of them," Selene told him. "Only you." He let out a groan, as if those words made him feel even worse than before.

"I can't believe I was so dumb," Tobias said, rubbing his forehead. "I should've just gotten a servant to sniff it for me. She was just so…"

" _Pretty_ ," He finished quietly, sighing lustfully as he did so. But then his tightened when he heard his words and he shook his head sharply. "Fuck, when did Leon say this would go away?" Selene suppressed a laugh.

"He said it should be gone by morning," Selene chortled, her hands caressing his shoulders. "Though, it is slightly humorous to see you have a crush." He blanched.

"High Lords don't have _crushes_ , Selene." Selene's smirk widened.  
"You smiled. A lot."

"So? I smile…occasionally."

"Only when you're imagining them naked," Selene said, rolling her eyes. Tobias made a face of protest.

"Well, you handled it well," Tobias grumbled. "Better than I would have." Selene's eyebrows rose.

"And how would you have handled it?" Selene mused.

"He would be sliced up in a million pieces," Tobias replied, showing his pointed teeth as he smiled and Selene didn't doubt it.

"And Clythia?" She asked. "How are you going to deal with that?" This time, her voice was serious. Shadows loomed over his face.

"I thought of my options," he said simply. "Drugging a high lord…doing that would cause a rational leader to go to war." She bit her lip.

"But then I found this." He gestured towards the range of papers on the desk. Majority of the papers, as far as Selene could see, had architectural sketches of mountains and topographical maps of the terrain. Even though Tobias seemed tense as he invited her to look at the stack, there was a hint of satisfaction when he saw the complete confusion in her eyes.

"The worst part is that she's right. See that part right there?" Tobias asked, pointing at about midway on the side of the mountain. "If she truly has a surface sharp enough to get through there, and we go in at a forty-five degree angle, we should be able to get the dragon stone like a knife cutting into soft butter. All we would need is a few Illyrians to fly up there and do the rest." Selene's mouth dried instantly as she looked down at the parchment that beheld Tobias's treasure.

"So what are you going to do?" She heard herself asking, forcing the words to come out of her. "You would need her white steel to do it." And then, for just a moment, Selene could truly see how old Tobias was. Even though he normally looked like he was only twenty years old, maybe twenty-two, she saw the years that had passed on his face. How being high lord made a man twice as old as he already was.

"If I did offer an alliance," he pondered, though as he said it seemed unlikely, "then I would have to apologize. And even if I did manage to apologize, there would be a cost. There is always a cost." And she didn't say anything. She tried to imagine Clythia wandering her home regularly, invading her privacy, embracing their so-called alliance. She was powerful, far more powerful than Selene, and deep down it terrified her.

"But I don't apologize," Tobias said with a snarl. "The Night Court doesn't apologize." And then Selene could feel the hotness overcome her as she stared into Tobias's dark eyes. The anger that burned in him that now burned in her.

"You can't invade," she said, suddenly feeling desperate, "It would cause a war." He shrugged lazily.

"I could get different courts on my side," he mumbled. "If I told them I'd share the treasure, we could overcome them. But I don't want to. I'm considering spies, or possibly infiltrating their resources one man at a time. It would take years. Not that being immortal doesn't have its benefits, but I don't want to wait fifty years to finally possess my birthright." Selene's eyebrows perked up.

"So what if you just…did nothing?" She offered. When he looked up from the various papers and shared her gaze, he looked furious.

"Do nothing?" He repeated, his voice rising. "I can't just do nothing. This-" And then she put her palm out innocently.

"Just consider it," she muttered softly. "Because it is an option." His lips pursed firm together and he nodded curtly. She tried to muster a smile but her facial expression broke. She yawned.

"I'm going to sleep," she said. "Just…tell me what you decide." And before he could respond, she turned away from him, gliding out of his room. Even through the bond, she couldn't decipher what he was thinking. What he wanted. All she could feel was anger. Was this because of his father? This outrageous competition to be better?

She was nearly to her room when she heard a crack. She turned around rapidly, but when she saw that it was just Leon she let out an exhale. He was leaning against the wall casually, and she expected to see a smile on his face but there was nothing.

"It's past midnight," she said, "Go to sleep." And he did look tired, but not in the same way she presumed. He looked worried, possibly anxious.

"Half a bottle," he said, his voice soft, "Half a fucking bottle and he didn't even take it. I mean, even a faithful man will make irrational decisions off one sip." Selene blinked at him.

"Are you-"

"I didn't think he needed you," Leon said, his voice honest. "But he does. He needs you. We need you, Selene." Her eyes narrowed on him.

"I'm not leaving-" He put his hand up, silencing her quickly.

"I'm just saying," he said, his voice breaking slightly, "No matter what, no matter what he does, protect him. Because I can't." And with those words, he turned away sharply, wobbling slightly as he regained his balance. She didn't speak, to call him back. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't even understand why Leon would say such a thing, especially in the middle of the night. But when he closed his door, she opened her own.

As she walked towards her bed, shedding off her cotton robe, she eyed a piece of paper on her bedside table. She almost never put anything on her bedside table aside from a flickering candle, so as she picked up the folded paper, she found her fingers shaking. At first, she assumed it was a little present that Clythia had left her, but when she saw the signature, a worse feeling overcame her.

 _ **That was your proof.**_

 _ **-J.**_

She read it three times before she fully digested his words. Clythia was the proof that Tobias was in danger, that his life was in danger. She swallowed, her heart beating fast as the paper crumbled in her hand. She couldn't think about that right now, not when Tobias was considering making a permanent deal. And how could that have been proof? What did that even _prove_? That Clythia was the enemy to the Night Court? That she was trying to take over? But she was just a general, not a hungry king. Sure, she certainly craved power, but she didn't come off as a usurper.

So, before Selene could think of the letter much longer, she turned to the fireplace behind her. Most of the fire had burned out throughout the night, but there was still some burning coals. She crumped the paper tighter and tossed it into the fireplace. She took a shaky breath as she watched the words burn away, evading her. But even as it burned, ceasing to exist, the words stayed with her. Even though the words burned away, the fear certainly didn't.

~*~ discidium ~*~  
 **I've had a rough few days. There is probably a billion mistakes, and I'm sorry I couldn't get it out earlier. Please leave a comment. As I've said a million times, comments make me so entirely happy so even if you normally don't comment, making an exception. Every single one makes me happy.**


	10. Chapter 10

Her hand clutched the banister tightly, wobbling down the stairs. Even one step at a time, she felt like she was going to collapse. She tried to pay attention to her shallow breaths, but all she could think about was how the world around her was spinning. Staying upstairs was not an option anymore – she had to get out of that prison. She was okay, she would be fine, she thought as she aimed for the last step. Cold sweat was pouring down her. After all, Leon had gotten over this stomach bug days ago. If he could get over it, so could she.

When she got to the landing, lingering towards two distinct voices in the sitting room, she saw a servant twitch towards her, as if to help her, but the cold look on Selene's face shooed the servant away rapidly. It was no secret that she had been ill – Tobias had made a grand deal about it after she forbid him from going into her room. The last thing she needed was for Tobias to get this stomach bug too. But, to her delight, he sounded full. Fresh, as his voice boomed. Even feet away, she could hear the power in his voice.

"You're going to form an alliance? Have you lost your bloody mind?" The voice came from Leon. Despite it ringing loudly, it was still casual.

"It's either that or invade," Tobias responded, just as casual. "And truthfully, I don't feel like going through a war. It sounds tedious."

"Whatever they want will put us in extreme debt-"

"And increase the economy twenty-fold."

"Yeah, fifty years in the future, after they exploit and exhaust half of the working class."

"So what is your grand idea then?"

"Just like Selene said, let it alone," Leon responded. When Selene finally saw them, she registered the stone-like look on Tobias's face. He was analyzing Leon, confused for a moment. But then when she took a step into the room, Tobias's face softened with light. Though he didn't move, it seemed like his whole body changed when he met eyes with her.

"I thought you were sick," Tobias said, not without casting Leon a pointed look, "Why are you up?" Though her body was nearly unmovable and her head was pounding, she mustered a smile.

"I feel better," she said half-heartedly, nearly sitting on Tobias as she landed on the couch. "Why is there…" She peered out the window behind her, her eyebrows knitted down. "Are those bonfires outside?" They were at a distance, flickering between the thick trees. And past that, there were a range of people going in and out of the cold forest hurriedly. Tobias's lips pressed together firmly.

"Because I thought you were going to go see Yvonne, I didn't tell you that we were having a small holiday," Tobias informed her in a bored tone, though she knew he felt tense by the way he avoided her gaze.

"You thought I'd go all the way to Yvonne's village? For a _stomach bug_?"

"Hoping," Leon added lightly, "He was hoping." But neither Selene nor Tobias paid him any attention.

"Well, you won't let any of the healers in the estate touch you."

"It's a stomach bug! Of course they shouldn't touch me."

" _Yvonne_ won't touch you," Tobias responded to her snarkily. Her eyes narrowed on him.

"Because she'll be too busy conducting an exorcism," Selene snarled back. She glanced at the drink cart next to the couch longingly. Quickly, before Tobias could notice her shaking hands, she poured herself a cup of citrus-infused water. Hopefully, it would calm the nausea.

"To be fair, throwing up for four days isn't normal. Leon was only throwing up for two," Tobias said, in the same exact tone. But Selene was done with this conversation. She wasn't going to justify her sickness – not to him, anyway.

"So what are you two trying to hide from me?" Selene asked. Leon didn't look bothered at the least, as if he had no objection in telling her, but Tobias's body tightened at her words.

"It's just a stupid holiday, you don't have to participate. It doesn't even-"

"Leon, what is this holiday?" Selene asked Leon sharply. Leon sat up stiffly.

"I shouldn't-"

"Leon," Selene said, emphasizing his name sharply. "Tell me." Without looking at Tobias, who was giving him a deathly glare, he leaned closer to her.

"Calanmai," he said uneasily, almost as if it was question. Tobias, though looking suddenly bored, glanced at her quickly.

"Calanmai?" Selene repeated, the word lingering in the air for a moment. "That's the harvest ritual right?" In her head, she began counting back the days. Truthfully, she didn't attend the ceremony last year but…has it really been a year since the last Calanmai? But when she looked up at the two men, both Leon and Tobias blinked at her in surprise. When she registered the look of shock on their faces, she put her drink down, her face hardening.

"I'm not stupid, I know what the harvest ritual is!" Selene shrilled. Tobias's eyebrows went up in disbelief but Leon chortled.

"Coming from the same woman who didn't believe in mates," Leon mumbled under his breath with a smirk. "Anyways, the issue isn't what it is, but how it _works_." Selene shot him an impatient look, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"Of course I know how it works," Selene said matter-of-factly. "You burn a virgin. _Duh_." But the answer was clearly incorrect as the whole room jolted. The apple in Tobias's fell to the ground as he sat up and Leon's face flickered with shock. Even the servants buzzing through the room silently couldn't help but twitch at her words. Selene suddenly shrunk back.

"What? That's that we always did in my village." Tobias and Leon exchanged looks before landing their eyes back on Selene. Both of them look exasperated.

"I really should have killed Petyr," Tobias sighed. Selene's eyebrows furrowed down. She looked towards Leon, who was in laughable shock. Tobias groaned loudly.

"Once a year the inner spirits of the High Lord, witnessed by the the spirit of the moon, are unleashed to fulfill a ritual," Tobias explained dully. "And every court does it differently. For instance, the High Lord of Dawn will cut his forearms six times and allow the drops of blood to spill in their heavenly fountains that his people drink out of. Afterword, he'll linger to whoever he has the deepest cravings for and indulge in them at the highest tower until morning." Selene's eyes widened.

"Indulge? Like have-" Leon waved at her dismissively.

"You should hear what the Autumn Court does," Leon snorted. "Because the High Lord of Autumn is immune to fire, he burns himself alive on a pyre and when the fire burns out, he makes love on top of the last burning embers. Trust me – it doesn't always end well for the lady he chooses." Tobias rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Show offs," Tobias muttered as he grabbed a new apple and bit into it. "But yes, all the rituals end in sex of some sort. Some sort of evolutionary thing." Leon stifled a laugh.

"The most amusing part is who the High Lord chooses. Because they aren't consciously aware of what's going on and are basically possessed by their inner powers, they don't always go towards their normal lover. They go to whoever attracts them most biolo-"

" _Leon."_ Tobias snarled his name sharply. Immediately, Leon's face dropped. Tobias's lips were curled upward angrily and Leon let out a nervous laugh as he registered the sudden horror on Selene's face.

"Of course, since you are mates, there is no chance he can ever pick someone else," Leon said, but when her concern didn't waver he added seriously, "Literally, it's impossible. Your mating bond is the most primitive bond to exist. If you think about it, the raw spirits inside the two of you are what made you connect. The _beasts_." A relief washed over her, calming her body. But something had made Tobias twitch at his words, looking at Leon with a more focused gaze.

"So what about the Night Court, then?" Selene asked. "What do you do?" And this time she was talking to Tobias directly.

"We find the ring," Tobias said. Selene blinked at him.

"The _ring_?" She repeated, blinking as it was the stupidest thing she had ever heard. "You find a ring?" Tobias smirked at this.

"The best jeweler in the court is honored to donate a ring for their mighty High Lord to find," Tobias said. "Their best ring available. They will then hide it somewhere on the mountain for the High Lord to find and bring it back to their lover in one of the caves." Selene's eyebrows went up slowly, tempted to laugh at the ridiculous ordeal.

"They just hide it somewhere on the mountain?" Selene repeated, stifling a laugh. "Who says the High Lord will even find it?" Tobias's smile widened.

"Because, lovely Selene, when the High Lord's spirits come out, their power is electrified," Tobias said proudly. "Which makes us fucking invincible." Leon snorted at this.

"And you use all your mighty invincibility to find a petty ring?" Selene giggled. "That's just plain _lame_." Tobias stuck his tongue at her playfully.

"Forget him. The real fun is for people like me," Leon interrupted joyfully. Selene's eyebrows furrowed down.

"People of Higher Fae, like Leon, feel the same beastly mentality as I do because of their blood," Tobias said, rolling his eyes. "Except they don't have to do the hard work. They just get to let their beast out and have fun." But as Tobias laughed at his comment, something flickered in his eyes. Something only Selene could catch.

"No, but we do get to have more fun," Leon said back. "As do _you_ , Selene." And then the three of them quietened as the blood rushed to her face suddenly. She looked between them.

"Do…people watch us?" She asked, her voice quieter than she expected. The smile on Tobias's face had dropped.

"Well, not specifically," Tobias answered dryly. "But it's not exactly a secret." It wasn't, Selene agreed. So she showed them both a smile. Her stomach though, as her lips turned up, clenched. Feeling like she was going to puke, she sat up jerkily.

"I…I have to go," Selene breathed, trying her best to seem alright. "I'm going to go put on some clean clothes." And then she stumbled away dizzily, not even watching as Tobias's eyes went to the window, glaring at the burning bonfires.

~*~ Discidium ~*~

She barely made it to Tobias's bedroom. It was toasty, with the fireplaces burning. As soon as she curled into the bed, like a small child, her stomach calmed down. Clearly, she just needed to lay down for a bit longer. She closed her eyes, letting herself daze, but then the wide doors opened. She jolted up, eyeing Tobias as he strutted through the bedroom doors. He looked furious.

"Are you okay?" She asked, watching as he stomped towards his wardrobe. He opened the door swiftly, eyeing each tunic as if it was a weapon.

"Leon is being…" But then he shook his head. "I just want to skip this whole Calanmai thing." Her eyebrows knitted down.

"Why?" Selene asked. "I think it'll be fun. There will be many different types of people, there will be refreshments, dancing, mingl-"

"I don't want you to go." The words felt like a slap in the face when Tobias let them out. Harsh, blunt. Like a sharp dagger. And maybe it was meant to hurt her feelings but she gave him a face of protest.

"Why?" She demanded. He then turned towards her with one swift movement, making her lips close.

"Because I'd rather fuck some girl I don't know and will never see again then do it with someone I actually care about," he spat honestly. "Because if you weren't my mate, and I was sure that I wouldn't try hunting you down during Calanmai, I would have already locked you in some unknown tower until daylight." She didn't even know how to reply to that. She sat up quickly.

"But I am your mate," she protested. "I have to perform the ceremony." He gave out a mirthless chuckle under his breath as he turned towards his wardrobe again.

"Great deductions, beautiful Selene."

"Don't be so defensive, Tobias. I mean it. I want to know why me going is such a hassle." She saw him swallow, closing his eyes for a second.

"I will know you through the bond but I won't _know_ you, Selene. I will sense you, I will smell our connection, but your state of being is no concern once I go under," Tobias warned her. "You may be in control of your surroundings, but my consciousness…I might as well be in hibernation. It won't be me. Just what I want. And I don't know if you can handle that." And for a moment she was curious what the _not-me_ version of Tobias would be. He was cold at nature, passive to say the least. Sure, he shared some emotions with her, but how much worse could he get? Sometimes, she wondered if he felt anything other than passion and pure angst.

"What are you saying?" She asked quietly. And when he held her gaze, a shiver ran down her spine. He was so sharp, so cold.

"Run," he told her simply. "If your instincts tell you run, you run. You don't fight, you don't waste your time saying no, you _run_. And you don't stop running until…" And he paused for a moment. Something was passing through his mind as his voice stopped. "Until you reach the estate and then, after that, you lock every door behind you." And she was quiet, analyzing the color that had washed from his face. How horrible could he be during the ceremony?

"That's the rule," he told her. "If you want to go, if you want to perform the ceremony with me, then that's the rule. If not, I'll get Leon to winnow you far enough away that it would be impossible for me to reach you by morning." Her lips pursed as she watched him go towards the doorway. But before he could walk away, she stopped him.

"I want to perform the ceremony with you," Selene said highly. "I'm not just interested in it, or amused by it, I want to. I am your wife, your lady. Your mate. Shouldn't I be allowed to take some pride in that?" And this time, he was the one who was quiet. He rose his chin, looking her over.

"Okay," he said, his voice soft. Though, there was still some uncertainty in his voice. "I won't stop you."

~*~ discidium ~*~ 

She didn't feel like she was wearing clothes. And when she had brought this concern to Rosalie, Rosalie had snickered at her and said _trust me, you don't want to_. But she was wearing something, at least. It was a jet-black robe that was as thin as paper. Though it was long-sleeved and went to her knees, she felt like everything showed – her legs, her breasts, even the goosebumps that ran over her body because of the cold. She was forbidden to wear any underwear or a bra, so when she was escorted from the castle many turned and stared at her body. Tobias didn't even flicker as they did so. She had guessed, as the ceremony was based upon sex in front of whoever dared to watch, it was the one day that he couldn't say a word to those who decided to stare. If anything, it was the one day out of the year that they were allowed to.

Tobias looked like, on the other hand, he was wearing too much clothing. A long-sleeved ebony tunic, brocaded with blood-red and silver. He was wearing pants so black that nothing reflected off them, not even the light from the full moon. His boots went up to his knees and had silver spikes around the opening of the boot – all of them sharp as a knife. Leon was less noticeable. He was wearing a pure black tunic and pants, both non reflective, and boots that stopped at the heel. Rosalie had caught almost as many eyes as Selene – she wearing a red velvet robe, with flowy long sleeves and stopped mid-thigh, but was far thicker than Selene's robe and far less revealing.

When they had made it to the mountainous areas, facing the number of caves, people were already mingling around. There were refreshments, a pink drink that Tobias had nodded towards. Rosalie didn't step near them nor did Leon.

"Alcohol?" She guessed. His eyes were zooming elsewhere, looking around at the number of high fae forming. He was beginning to look tenser. Stiffer. Like something was beginning to rise inside of him.

"More or less," he muttered under his breath. "It'll keep you conscious but…fuzzy. It makes things easier for some of the women who are dragged here." And when she looked at him, she couldn't tell if he was encouraging her to drink it or forbidding her. On one hand, she saw the lingering worry in his eyes. Maybe even pity that he truly believed this would end badly and at least, if she drank it, she wouldn't have to remember it. But she remembered their deal – she remained conscious enough that she could run if need be.

"I'll think about it," she whispered. He looked at her again, his eyes piercing. But then his head turned sharply towards Leon. Leon was already chatting with a brunette girl at the refreshments table, giving her a tilted smile as she drank a cup. Clearly, Leon was already feeling the sexual vibes.

"I'll see you later," Tobias said, his voice nearly inaudible as he walked away stiffly. Though nobody explicitly stared, people glanced at him excitedly. A number of girls hovering at the edge of the clearing lingered towards him but he didn't so much as turn his head towards them.

She was left there for only a few seconds, her eyes lingering where Tobias had disappeared as if waiting for him to come back, before thin fingers clasped her arm. She spun around quickly, meeting eyes with Rosalie. A long, red smile sprawled across her face, a happiness that Selene couldn't quite reflect. Her green eyes were glittering. Selene saw how multiple men were looking at the both of them, thinking cauldron-knows-what.

"Are you ready?" Rosalie asked Selene, nearly bursting in giggles. Selene's lips pursed.

"Yes," Selene lied. "Where will I…?" But then Rosalie eyed the large, looming mountain that hovered over them. It wasn't huge compared to most mountains that Selene was used to climbing but even as Rosalie began to pull her towards it, her heart wasn't in the claim. But as Selene walked away from the party, going through a dark trail that would lead to a different side of the mountain, somewhere more secluded, she noticed that it wasn't as terrifying as it seemed. There were a winding path that would lead them up the mountain and from where Selene stood, between a mountain and a dark forest that went on for forever, Selene could see the caves. There were many of them hiding inside the mountain, side by side only about twenty feet away from each other.

"What will happen?" Selene asked quietly, as they began up the mountain. It wasn't too far away, Selene noticed. Rosalie's smile broke, a look that Selene couldn't quite place in her eyes.

"Personally, I've never been chosen," Rosalie said, and Selene could hear a hint of relief in her voice. "Usually Tobias would go through multiple girls a night but because you're his mate, and you're what his body craves naturally, you'll probably be here for a while." And then they both heard the echoes of giggles coming from one of the caves. They both looked at each other quickly but then shrugged it off.

"They say that the moon is watching," Rosalie went on. "They say that the moon is the judge of the High Lord's ceremony and will be keeping it's eyes on the both of you closely. I…" But then they made it to the cave that the giggling had come from. Unfortunately, they had to surpass it to get to the other caves.

Inside was Leon. The brunette who he had been flirting with was pressed against the wall, with him half naked and kissing her neck. But when he saw them in the entry way, he stopped suddenly. His eyes glittered at the both of them, his smile breaking for a moment. Almost a sense of sadness filling his face as the girl's laughs ceased as well. But then, before either of them could say anything to them, Rosalie pulled her away towards the next cave. The next cave wasn't far different than the other, just twice as large. But bonfire sticks were on the sides of the cave, making it brighten with fire light. Selene could tell that this was clearly a cave specifically made for the High Lord.

Selene's eyes shot towards Rosalie's. Whether Rosalie could see it or not, Selene was desperate. Desperate for her to wait for just a few minutes. But Selene knew better than that.

"I should probably leave," Rosalie said aloud, not without grasping her arm softly and saying, "It won't be different than any other time." But even as Rosalie said it, Selene knew she was lying. Still, Selene nodded quietly.

"If you need anything, Leon is right next door," Rosalie continued, a small smirk on her face. "Though, he's a bit preoccupied." As Rosalie walked away, looking back at her once more, Selene didn't share her smile. But when Rosalie's shadow vanished, and she found herself alone, she crouched down against the wall.

As she closed her eyes, listening to the wind and the crowd below her, she felt a pain in her stomach. The thread, pulsing. Pulling. At first, she found the feeling to be amusing, as if he was talking to her at a distance, but then she truly began to think about the meaning of the ceremony. He was trying to find her. To hunt her down. In a way, as she began to think about the ceremony at a different angle, it seemed a bit terrifying. Rosalie never bothered to tell her about the past girls that Tobias had shared Calanmai with. Was there a specific reason?

But then she heard a scream. At first Selene thought it was in her head, but the screeching – it echoed against the cave. She jolted up on her feet. There was a crack. She drew in a breath. Quickly, she went to the edge of the cave, looking at Leon's cave at a distance. There was no one else in the other caves, not that she heard at least. She, hesitantly, took small steps out of the cave. As she grew closer into the trail that led to the next cave, her heartbeat was beating fast. Leon's cave was farther away then she had remembered, she thought. Yet, she knew it came from there. She just knew.

As she grew closer, she began to hear heavy breathing. Panting. Her mouth dried up as she walked into the light of Leon's cave.

" _Leon_." He was on his knees. There was blood doused all over him – on his hands, on his chest, on his legs. He was entirely nude, but that wasn't what bothered her. What bothered her was the girl lying next to him. She must have been beautiful – brown curls, dark eyes, red lips. Yet, she laid limp. Her head was tilted at an unnatural angle and there were scratches all over her. Bleeding, leaking of red liquid. The blood was hers. And it wasn't just on Leon – it was everywhere. It was on the floor, on the wall, even splatters on the ceiling.

And she was dead. The girl was dead.

Selene dared herself to inch closer, to reach for the girl, but she only made it a few feet. Leon was abnormally still as he hovered over the body, his eyes wide. But then he looked in her direction. At first she shrunk back, thinking that he was looking at her, but then she realized he wasn't.

"Someone else did this. Tobias, I didn't do it." And then, just as she was about to look around, a force pulled her backwards, nearly flinging her on the side of the cave. Her head collided with the wall painfully, making her let out a screech.

"Get out!" A new voice snarled, what felt like a thousand miles away as she staggered up. " _Go_." She felt two hands push her father back towards the opening, making her stumble, but all she could see was the blood on the walls. The shadow of a body. She gripped the entryway of the cave, her nails clawing at the stone. Her eyes were wide. She couldn't look away – she couldn't unsee the dead girl. But then she felt someone jerk her chin roughly, making her look away from the scene. Two deep black eyes found her, devilish. Beastly. She could tell he was struggling to push down the rising spirit inside of him, wincing painfully.

"You saw nothing," Tobias growled at her, _actually_ growled. His face was inches from hers. She inhaled raggedly. "You will not say a word to anyone about this, you hear me? You will go back to the cave and wait for me. And if anyone says anything to you, tell them to fuck off." She was silent, her body shaking. He gripped her harder, and while he looked maddening, she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes as well. " _Do you hear me, Selene_?" At first she was silent, her eyes wide with terror but then she nodded. He didn't let go for a moment, just held her gaze. Almost like he was fighting two different sides of himself, grasping for a single identity. But before he could choose, she stumbled away from him, not looking back as she ran into the darkness.

~*~ discidium ~*~ 

Tobias found her in the trees. She was going home, she decided, as she ran off in the opposite direction. She had never gone in this direction, but she didn't care. All she knew was that she saw the estate at the distance. She was going home and she was going to lock all the doors and she was going to hide. Hide from what? She didn't know. But terror had taken over her body and she couldn't do it. She couldn't do it, she thought as she bolted between the trees. _She couldn't do it_.

But then, minutes later, she felt a hand grab her, making her slide against the dirt. She let out a screech before facing the handler. Her body had nailed against an old oak tree and the impact was so sudden that it took a moment to open her eyes. She let out a breath. It was Tobias…but it wasn't Tobias. It was his face, his hands, his body. Yet, something was different. Something else shadowed in his eyes. And his heartbeat, she realized as he pressed his body against hers, was faster.

And for a moment, it was so entirely quiet. She realized she ran so far out into the woods that she could no longer hear the people in the distance and the trees were so old and large that the two of them were practically hidden in the shadows. She could see the moon though – the bright, white moon that was shining down on her. Watching her. Watching them. And she wondered if it was truly listening to the each High Lord like the harvest ritual claimed. That the moon was watching them closely, listening to their every breath that they inhaled between themselves. It was the only thing in the world listening to her, she realized. Because Tobias was too far gone.

"There you are," he said softly – so very softly. "I was looking for you." It was at that moment that she realized her feet weren't even touching the ground anymore. He held her closely, pinning her to the tree like she was a rag doll. One of his large hands were laid out on top of hers above her head and the other was at her waist. Though it wasn't his doing, she felt the robe untie itself when a gust of wind blew through. She sucked in a breath.

"Did you drink it?" He whispered. Her face tightened.

"Drink what?" She demanded, but her voice was rasp. He didn't seem to notice at all. His hand had left her waist, touching her skin. Stroking her cheek.

"The drink," He said, his lips so close to hers that she felt his breath go into her mouth. "I wanted you to drink it. But you didn't." Though minutes ago she would've thought it was irrelevant, but the obsession in his eyes, the madness, made her curious. So curious she was almost fearful.

"Why?" She heard herself ask.

"I thought it was because I didn't want you to remember what's about to happen," he replied, his voice as thin as a feather. "But really, it's because I'm selfish. I want to get away with it. I don't want to remember you fighting me." Goosebumps were going up and down her body rapidly, and not because of the cold. Her throat felt dry.

"And what do you want to get away with?" And when her words came out, they were sharp as a broken piece of glass. Though her robe had already unraveled, Tobias was peeling it off her shoulders as he shook his head humorously. She watched as he let it go in the air, letting it fly away into the night.

"None of the other girls I've performed Calanmai with ever had the nerve to not take a drink," he breathed, and she felt something harden at her waist. "Nobody has ever done this sober." And she couldn't tell if it was pure shock in his voice or admiration or both.

"You'll still be good?" He crooned, and she felt one of his sharp nails go down the side of her body, piercing her. She couldn't tell if it was a question or a demand. "Of course you'll be good. You're always good aren't you? Truly, purely _good_." She swallowed. He noticed the wince she reflected back at him, and something about it made him humored.

"They say Calanmai is when our true selves come out," he mused with a mirthless chuckle that made her shiver. His claw was tracing around her nipple now, causing her to wince. Like he was carving into her, piece by piece. "The monsters inside us. Who we truly are. But look at _you_. You're so young, so innocent. There's no monster inside you." Though she couldn't see due to the musty darkness, she heard him unbuckle his pants with one hand. It fell to the ground with heavy clatter, the sound of knives and daggers crashing against fallen branches.

"When I was trying to find you, I still hadn't decided what I wanted to do with you," he purred, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I couldn't decide if I wanted to make love to you like in that carriage or fuck you like I did during our first time or force you to suck every part of me until the sun came up. But I know what I want you to do now."

She tried to pull away from him, kicking him, but he didn't even twitch.

"I want you to scream," he growled at her. "When I do this, when I leave scars on you that'll stay there forever, I want you to scream. And I want you to know that nobody is going to hear you because you are mine."

~*~ discidium ~*~  
She had drank fire. There was no other explanation on why her throat hurt so horribly, the lasting feeling of her throat in charred shreds. Like she had swallowed coals or inhaled a mouthful of embers. Simply taking a single breath made her wince, her fingers clutching her throat. Slowly, she felt her body, heavy and achy, sit up.

"You're awake!" The sharp words made her eyes open suddenly. A bundle of dark red curls bounced across her face, along with a risqué view of two bobbling breasts shaking together as the figure leaned over her. It took a moment for Selene to even register that it was Rosalie who was hovering over her, her ashen face filling with color. She was wearing a cotton bed gown, with smeared make up from the previous day still on her face.

"Where…" Selene croaked, looking at her surroundings, "where am I?" When she let out the words, Rosalie's smile dropped.

"A safehouse," Rosalie said. Selene blinked at her stupidly, shaking her head in confusion. She was in a circular room with a beautiful canopy bed that had purple-black sheets dangling off the bedposts. The small window next to her was open, letting in a nice breeze. Carefully, Selene looked out, taking in a sharp inhale. It was beautiful. The sky was a bright blue with speckles of faraway stars, and below her were countless towers and buildings of many different colors. She could see, even from where she was, the delicate cobble streets and the jingles from various food stands. It was dream-like. But she had never been there, never in her wildest dreams. She couldn't even tell if she was still in the Night Court, everything looked so foreign and bizarre.

"Why?" Selene bleated. "Why am I in a safehouse? Where's…?" She didn't want to say his name. Last night…it was clear as day until the moment he had told her to scream. After that, all she could remember was blackness. Yet, her throat was aching and her body felt heavy. Rosalie bit her lip.

"He's not here right now. There was…" Rosalie began but then she shook her head. "He'll be back soon and he'll explain, but we have more important matters." Selene's eyebrows knitted down curiously.

"Selene," Rosalie said carefully, "A healer has been going in and out of here for…obvious reasons." Selene felt herself flush with redness, though she knew there was no reason. Still, it was embarrassing. Because if Tobias was telling the truth, and he had done as he planned, she probably looked mortifying.

"I don't need one," Selene said sharply, attempting to prove her point by shifting in the bed. "Tell the healer to leave." Rosalie smirked.

"You do _now_ ," Rosalie argued, her body scrunching together giddily. Selene's eyes narrowed on her.

"And why is that, Rosalie?" Selene let out flatly, tiredly. And this time, when Rosalie's smile widened, Selene got a bad feeling in her stomach. Something, instinctual at least, told her something was wrong. Something was extremely wrong.

"You're pregnant," Rosalie let out, giggling. "You're pregnant with the next heir of the Night Court." And then Selene puked.

~*~ Discidium ~*~

 **Tomorrow is school. Ugh. Can you give me some reviews and send me some love? Also, I wrote a new story that I believe kinda reflects the same type of writing. It's called Red & Gold. It starts off a bit dry but essentially, it's post-ACOWAR and is a in-progress story about Eris and his mother being forced to flee to the Day Court. There, Eris has to come terms with past sins and his mother is forced to learn how to love again. If you're bored, give it a try? It not, just at least leave review on this story giving your thoughts. Thank you and sorry for the errors! **


	11. Chapter 11

They called it Velaris. And it was _certainly_ beautiful – like an entire different land compared to where she came from. Where the stars shined in the middle of the day and the air had a breeze of liveliness and laughter. Even from where she was, at the top of the highest tower, she could hear the songs being strung and sung from the streets below her. Animals she had never seen flocked in the skies, birds of all kinds. Yet, a looming fear was taking up Selene's stomach as she hovered over the moon-white railing. Her eyes, dry and without warmth, ran over the beckoning city. Her hands were stiff at her sides, assured that none of her body parts brushed against the unnoticed bump. When had she even gotten pregnant? Two months ago? Maybe the first time her and Tobias ever laid together? As she thought about it, she felt the nausea stir up again. But she wouldn't let this baby win.

"Will she be born here? In Velaris?" Selene let out, pushing down the nausea. For the last hour, Rosalie hadn't torn her eyes off her. After giving her the news, a healer had barged in happily but Selene had yanked herself away from the both of them violently, demanding to know where she had been taken to. After Rosalie agreed to explain to her where she was, Selene allowed the healer to approach her. To touch her and examine her. And throughout the entire process, she was silent. Cold as the Night Court once seemed.

"She can be born anywhere you wish," Rosalie responded softly – carefully, almost. "Usually only when the healer predicts the baby to be a boy is the child required to be birthed at the estate because word of an heir will spread faster that way. But your baby is a girl. You're safe." _You're safe_. She heard how Rosalie let out the words, almost like she regretted saying it as soon as it came out. Rosalie's face was unreadable, not sad but not as happy as she once was. Instead, Rosalie was watching her. Analyzing her, waiting for her to burst. Because what beast hid underneath Selene's skin? But Selene kept her composure, her body straight as a line as she looked over the city.

"I know the healer said the baby will be a girl but, Rosalie, my instincts-"

"That healer has never been wrong," Rosalie argued sharply. " _Never_. Don't even think about it." And Rosalie knew what she was thinking – Tobias didn't want an heir. A child? Sure. An heir? She didn't want to fathom it. She didn't want to even want to say it aloud. And clearly, Rosalie didn't either. Her eyes had hardened, a darkness looming over her face when Selene said those words.

"The healer has never been wrong?" Selene repeated quietly. "You promise?" But Rosalie's face was firm. There wasn't a single doubt in her eyes.

"I promise with my life," Rosalie said, bowing her head. And while a bundle of terror was still spiraling in her stomach, a small smile showed on her face. Not enough to ensure happiness, but just enough that Rosalie managed to smile back.

" _Selene_." She whirled around suddenly, hearing Rosalie inhaling sharply behind her. And there he stood in front of her – Tobias. Her child's father. When Selene had been asleep, the healers cleaned her. Her hair was washed and brushed, she was polished so perfectly that even the grime under her fingernails no longer existed. But Tobias? He was wearing nearly the same attire he had been wearing the night before, except at least now he was wearing a tunic. There was dirt etched across his face and his hand was carrying a bloody towel. Clearly, as she looked at the bloodstains on his fingers, there was definitely a story to be told.

She felt herself press her back against the railing, increasing the gap between them. Selene's eyes whisked towards her side, hoping to find Rosalie but Rosalie had walked away quietly. She swallowed as she looked back at Tobias. She would have to tell him now, she realized. But she could barely open her mouth. How could she possibly tell him?

"What happened?" She heard herself ask emptily. "Why are you so…" And whether he noticed the emotionless tone in her voice or not, he didn't ask. Instead, he let his storming eyes fall down on her, watching her nearly as close as Rosalie had. But would he be looking at her the same in a few minutes? When she revealed the truth?

"You don't remember anything?" Tobias asked, his voice too hoarse to hold any anger. Even though he was only a few feet away, his voice sounded distant. " _Nothing_?" She was pregnant. _Pregnant_ , of all things. How could she think about anything else?

"No," she said shortly. "I don't. Why?" Pregnant, pregnant with a girl. The baby would be nothing, nothing to anyone of importance. She would be safe, free to be whoever she will. She would be privileged but not held back. And nobody would ever look at her. Nobody would ever dare to look at her.

"Word of my decision with Clythia had been released," she heard Tobias go on. Her palms were sweating. "There was a riot. A bad riot. Apparently, many of my lords are afraid that I'll sell out their land to Clythia. They're afraid that this stone may cost them their power because, with this stone, I won't need them anymore. So they began slaughtering some of the lesser faeries at Calanmai as proof that they will be as ruthless as possible. When I went over there to stop it, someone grabbed you. They…they hurt you, Selene." And finally, she looked up at him, her eyebrows tilted downwards. If anything, it was the first genuine emotion she had shown all day.

"Hurt me?" Selene repeated, blinking. "I don't remember anyone hurting me. I don't even remember a riot." But then she looked down at herself. There were blue rings along her wrists, her throat was burning, there were odd places that throbbed and felt kicked and punctured. There were no open wounds but her body ached heavily. Like she weighed twenty pounds heavier than she really did.

Tobias looked pale.

"They tried killing you," Tobias went on in a low voice, and she could hear the iciness on his tongue. The cold, distant iciness that brought shivers down her spine. "I wasn't there for it…When I heard them rioting at a distance, I told you to run. To hide. I thought, since we didn't even finish the ceremony yet, you were calm enough to get home by yourself. It was a foolish decision. But I didn't have the time to find Leon or Rosalie to walk you back and I had to get to the riot immediately. I believed if I told you how to get back to the estate through the forest, then you would be fine. But minutes later, I heard your screaming. From acres away, I heard you screaming at the top of your lungs-"

"What did they do?" Selene whispered, her body feeling suddenly cold. Dirty, almost. He noticed as she dug herself deeper against the railing, farther away from him. Instantly, she felt her hand press against the small bump that he was yet to notice. A protective hand.

"I…I don't know," Tobias said quietly, and the words sounded painful as he let it out. "I don't know what they did. I just found you bloody and you had no clothes and-" She was gripping the baby bump tighter now, feeling the hairs along her body rise up.

"You assumed," she finished for him. His eyes, which were barely on her as he spoke, finally looked up at her. His dark, twisting eyes. Yet, they weren't full of anger or hate or ferociousness. Instead, they were round as saucers. He looked at her desperately, pleadingly. He even gave out his hand, but she didn't even look at it. His nose flared as he continued to speak.

"I killed them. I killed them all, Selene. I made sure they felt every-"

"And you drugged me after." And this time she made sure that Tobias could hear the betrayal in her voice. "You drugged me so I didn't remember it." _Or maybe so that you wouldn't have to ever know what happened._ Her eyes didn't waver as she stared him down though. And the High Lord of the Night, the most terrifying man on the planet, looked like he was close to falling on his knees.

"You're angry," Tobias said aloud, and he almost sounded shocked. "I did what I could, Selene. I did everything-"

"I'm pregnant." He blinked. At first he didn't understand, his desperate face dissolving into nothing. He turned his ear towards her as if he had misheard entirely and needed to hear it once again. But then, as the shock washed away like an hour glass, his face tightened. And she didn't know what made her say it. Maybe anger? Betrayal? Maybe because she didn't want to dwell on anything more than she had to? But she put her hand on the bump.

"You're…you're _what_?" Tobias screeched. "You're pregnant?" She could've sworn, just by the scrutiny in his voice, the betrayal in _his_ voice, the music that rang in the air quieted. The healer who was hovering in the bedroom room, waiting to be beckoned by Tobias, shrunk back. She was silent though, holding his gaze steadily.

"But we've been careful," Tobias said tightly. "We were so very-" And then his voice stopped. Because, to be truthful, they hadn't been very careful. Not on the first night, not in the carriage. Most of the time, yes, but for whatever reason, they never imagined pregnancy as an issue.

"What's the gender?" He asked quietly, inching towards her. The anger had washed away finally, but…something else. He looked down at her stomach, staring and staring. "Is it a boy?" His eyes lingered pointedly at her hand, which was still cradling the small bump.

"Girl," Selene answered. "She's a girl." A warmth seemed to spread inside of her as she said it. Maybe it wasn't the best time, nor in the best way, but she existed. In less than nine months, she would be alive. And she would have both of them in her – Tobias, the strongest High Lord to live and Selene, an Illyrian. They would be a family. Selene wouldn't just be some girl who floats around Tobias's castle – she would be a mother. And while Tobias and Selene both loved in obscure ways, far different than most people, Selene knew it was going to be okay. Because she, the beautiful bundle inside her, would love them back. Something they could love together, something they could call _theirs_.

"It's a girl," Tobias repeated, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "A girl." Yet, nothing changed in his voice. Selene still felt unsettled as she followed his intense gaze. His eyes were so dark, so cold. But then he looked up at her, his eyes tracing her face slowly. His face began to untighten, the darkness slowly disappearing.

"You want her?" Tobias asked, his voice so lacking of emotion that she nearly winced. She hesitated for a moment, her hand loosening at her side. "Do you want this child?" She pursed her lips, looking away for a moment.

"She won't be like normal children. She'll be different, with wings and powers that can feed and control the darkness. But she'll be ours," Selene said. "And I feel like we deserve that. We deserve something that we can call ours." And she could see the doubt on his face. The flicker of wariness. Because they weren't created to be parents. They were made to preserve. They spent years hardening their souls, making themselves nearly invincible only for the desire to live one more day. They were made to survive. Even she wondered if they had the capabilities to love a child. But then his eyes seemed to find hers and something brightened on his face. His facial expression didn't change, yet he looked like he had grown ten years younger.

"Okay," he said. And there was a ghost of a smile on his lips as his fingers brushed against her cheek. " _Okay_."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"I can't believe you're pregnant." Leon had said it four times since she had told him. Soon after Tobias had softened to the idea of having a child, Leon had rushed into the room, telling Tobias it was time to leave again. Selene almost asked why, or to at least remind him that he should take a bath first, but she saw the shadowed look on Tobias's face. He had to leave, he had told her, and he couldn't tell her why. But, thankfully, he left Leon with her.

"I am aware," Selene muttered dryly. Something had changed in the air since Tobias left – the stirring fear evolve. Rosalie noticed this as her eyes flickered towards her, concern etching across her face. But Selene turned away coolly, as if to remind her that they had to take it one day at a time.

"Am I forbidden from leaving?" It had come out harsher than she had meant as she looked over at Leon. He blinked at her.

"You want to…go home?" He asked back, clearly puzzled. Though Rosalie flashed her a look of confusion, she pursed her lips silently.

"Home? No," Selene responded. "I want to go outside. I want to see Velaris." Leon snorted at this.

"Go to the railing then," Leon shot back, a smirk on his face. "Because there's no way in hell…" But she had already gotten off the couch, lingering towards the balcony once again. Her hands, still cold as a corpse, pressed against the warm railing. Leon and Rosalie rose as well, following behind her. Her eyes lingered at the beautiful town below her, buzzing with liveliness.

"I've never seen a place like this," Selene marveled. "I want to see it. To feel it." Rosalie grew close to her, her fingers latching around her arm.

"Leon," Rosalie said softly, "surely, we can just walk outside-"

"You haven't been here in years," Leon reminded her, sticking out his tongue. "You'll get lost. And I don't have time to find you. I have a meeting-" And then she jumped. No, the word for it was _leaped._

She had never gone more than twenty-four hours without flying in the air. But she needed to feel it. She had to feel the wind on her face, the smell of the stinging air soaring into her nostrils. She had to feel it. She had to feel her wings wide open, gliding against the skies. She had to feel the slight chill running through her, the sounds of the people below her mixing and mingling. She felt weightless, free, beau-

"Selene! _Selene_!" She whipped her head to her side and took in a ragged breath. She then felt the pull on her arm, the sudden feeling she hadn't felt when she soared into the air. Beside her, clinging to her forearm deathly, was Rosalie. Clearly, she didn't let go when Selene jumped from the balcony, leaping with so much energy that Rosalie probably hadn't noticed Selene had jumped until they were both into the air. Swinging, diving, hundreds of feet up in the air.

"Rosalie," Selene gaped, swinging a second arm around Rosalie. She hoisted her up against her, watching Rosalie's face shift from terrified to absolutely stricken. Her green eyes were as round as saucers.

"S-Selene!" Rosalie screeched. "We're-we're hundreds of feet up in the-" But the genuine smile on Selene's face silenced her.

"Look around," Selene said through Rosalie's squeeks and squeels. "Look at the people under us." And while Rosalie's breaths were going in and out rapidly, Selene watched as her eyes took in the scene below them. She even seemed a bit mesmerized.

"Does it always look like this?" Rosalie asked over the roaring wind. "Like…like…"

"Like freedom," Selene breathed. "Like everything around me can be forgotten by a single step into the air." And Rosalie's fingers, that had been clawing against Selene desperately, seemed to loosen as she allowed Selene to hold her comfortably. Her eyes began to glaze over with what seemed like tears.

"I've never seen something so beautiful," Rosalie whispered. And Selene knew at that moment that Rosalie didn't just mean Velaris – she meant flying. She meant whisking hundreds of feet into the air and looking at the miniature world below them. Like they were no longer tethered to their problems or duties. Like what was going on was nothing compared to the bigger picture. All of their fears, their issues, seemed to dissolve.

"People are beginning to stare," Selene mused as the dots below her stopped moving. The people below them clumped together.

"Good," Rosalie giggled. And as Selene began to dive down, not even feeling as Rosalie's fingernails clawed into her arms, she exhaled. Because everything would be okay. If she could fly, if she could feel her freedom, everything would be okay.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Selene had landed them in the middle of a market place, surrounded by the then-little dots that had been gaping at them. Surely, they knew what Illyrians were, they probably had just never seen one in action. Though, as they stared at her, she could tell they had no idea who she was anyways. She was just a girl with wings.

"Move on," Rosalie said, waving her hand dismissively at the buzzing crowd. "Cauldron, these people will get amused by anything." Selene opened her mouth, a smile on her lips as she took in the colorful world around them. There was a cart next to them selling countless colorful scarves, and another one selling various paintings. She looked down the cobble-stoned bath, now filled with people wandering aimlessly.

"This is absolutely…" But then she stopped. A few feet away, leaning on the edge of an ally, she caught flash of a boy with white-blonde hair. She let out a breath shakenly. People were going by so fast though that she couldn't grasp a good view of the whisp of blonde. As Rosalie chattered, Selene dragged her between people roughly, trying to catch sight of the figure once again, but when she reached the alley he had disappeared.

"Selene, what-" And then he stepped in front of her. And this time, she was ready for it.

He looked different then the last time she had seen him. He was wearing a dark, silvery tunic with jet-black pants and comfortable hiking books. His bright blonde hair fell down his forehead feather-like, almost as if it was an oil painting. His eyes were shining brightly, yet…something was different. Something was different as he stared at her, holding her tight gaze. Maybe it was because he wasn't smirking at her condescendingly, or that there was something desperate in his bright eyes. But Selene's chin rose, her back straightening.

"Jameson," she greeted tightly. Rosalie didn't so much as breathe. Selene glanced at her quickly, remembering that they had known each other but she had never seen them facing one another. Or even how they knew each other in the first place.

"Selene," Jameson said, bowing his head. Selene was quiet – deathly quiet.

Rosalie's eyes jotted quickly, as if she was debating on clearing the distance between him and Selene, but they all knew there was no reason. If Jameson was here in Velaris, a sanctuary that he was no doubt forbidden from, their issue was far greater than it appeared. Jameson took great risks to be there and the ultimate reason why he did so was barely good enough to keep them quiet in the midst of a crowd. Yet, every second that passed between them made a new pellet of sweat fall down the back of Selene's neck.

"What exactly are you doing here?" She was sure that Rosalie wanted to demand the same thing but this was Selene's moment to show her superiority. To demand the respect she rightfully deserved.

"It was not easy getting in here. I would rather you not bring any attention to us in this countless crowd. Come, follow me." Selene was still. Jameson's hand was out to her, his green eyes colder than she had ever seen. _No_ , a part of her said. _Don't_. But yet the curiosity was spinning in her. Too much curiosity.

" _Come_? That's your explanation?" Selene repeated with a casual laugh, though her voice lowered. "I'm a lady. I don't _come_ anywhere. If you need something, go to your High Lord and ask." His jaw clenched impatiently.

"You have no idea the hell I've been through the last few days, Selene," he snarled hotly. "I don't have time for your silly games."

"Games?" Rosalie interrupted, letting out a seductive giggle. Yet, there was something dangerous about how it came out. "She is a lady. You are an outcast. Your issues are not her problem." And when Jameson looked at her, his eyes could've killed. Even Rosalie's smirk lowered. Selene's eyes narrowed on him. No, she wouldn't wake away from him. Not now.

"Is this about Calanmai?" She asked flatly. "For your information, your High Lord has got it under control. Now, you-"

"Under control?" Jameson let out, following a cackle. "Is that what he told you?" Selene nearly flinched back at the bite in his words. She swallowed.

"What do you mean? It's done with," She replied, her voice sounding bored. The anger that flashed across his face disappeared suddenly.

"You…you don't know at all?" Jameson asked, and his voice was empty. He looked like a ghost. "No wonder he brought you here." Selene blinked at him rapidly.

"Here? What, have you been looking for me?" Selene asked, her voice almost a shrill. But he was shaking his head rapidly, not to say no, but almost in disbelief.

Jameson clasped her thin wrist.

"Come on," Jameson said seriously. "I need to show you something." But then she felt a hand clamp onto her shoulder. Feeling an odd sense of dread pile heavily in her stomach, she turned around. It was Leon – still as stone as he stared at Jameson. His eyes were unblinking as he held Jameson's tight gaze. Selene let out a breath, trying not to wonder why she felt relieved when she realized it was just Leon.

"Leon," she let out. Though the heavy pile in her stomach subsided, her face paled when she saw him. "Don't worry about it. He was just…" But then Leon's eyes fell to her wrist, where in which Jameson's hand was still latched to. She looked up at Jameson wildly, wondering why, as he held Leon's deathly glare, he hadn't let go by now.

" _One_ reason." And Leon's voice was so icy, so terrifying, that she nearly winced. "One reason that I shouldn't go to my High Lord right now." Though Leon's threat sounded sincere, Jameson's jaw clenched debatably. He slowly shook his head.

"I don't believe you," Jameson said silkily, his voice low. Before Leon could reply, his head shot towards Selene. "Come with me. _Please_. I have to show you." Selene's face flushed as she looked between Jameson and Leon. Leon's mouth was open, his face contorted with rage, but his eyes found hers. Watching her, waiting for her to pick him. To obey him.

"You aren't my authority," Selene said, and Leon's raged face unraveled. His hand fell away from her suddenly, as if he had just touched something warm. "You aren't my High Lord." She looked at Jameson quickly, her heart beat racing. "Take me. Show me this…show me this so-called atrocity my husband committed." Rosalie took her other hand fast.

"You aren't going without me," Rosalie hissed, though her eyes were merciless as they landed on Jameson. She looked at him as if he was spit lying on the ground. "If you don't mind, my lady." Selene felt herself nod.

"We will both go with you," she declared. She inched towards Jameson awkwardly but then Leon caught her arm. Her head swung towards him, her nose flared.

"Selene, you can't just leave Velaris without telling-" But then when he took in the iciness that had filled her face, he stopped. As he took her in, a look close to betrayal flashed across his face. He shook his head slowly. "Then let me go with you." Selene's face broke. Around her, she heard both Rosalie and Jameson let out an impatient breath of air.

"I don't need a babysitter-" But Leon straightened.

"If he has no ill intentions, then he obviously has no problem with me going," Leon let out tightly. Jameson reflected a half-smirk.

"And who says you won't run back to your High Lord and twist this entire thing?" Jameson asked silkily. Leon swallowed.

"I guess you'll just have to trust me," Leon muttered. "Are you able to winnow…"

"All of you?" Jameson finished dryly. "I guess I don't have a choice. But you get closest to me so that you don't…" His eyes fell to Leon's leg and for the first time, Selene noticed Leon get…almost embarrassed. He flushed red as he grew closer to Jameson then the rest of them, clutching his shoulder. He looked dreadfully uncomfortable.

Jameson looked at the two girls, who had both latched onto Jameson's arms.

"One," Jameson breathed. "Two. _Three_." And then they stepped into the darkness as one.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Selene knew it was a bad decision as soon as she took the first step. Her chest felt tight as she stepped into the air, not even capable of breathing until she stumbled forward. Jameson had caught her at her waist, steadying her. Slowly, she looked around.

"Oh my cauldron…" Tens of people – maybe hundreds, were buzzing around them, but it was different then Velaris. Dark large walls enclosed them into the quarter-mile space. The area looked large enough to be a small community. Where were they? A building made out clay? But it felt so damp. Chilly, almost. The scene around them, if not for the enclosed space, would look like a village. Tents were set up around them, people buzzing with food and supplies. Her eyes ran around to a cart nearest to her, glancing at the trade going on. One of the men had a cart full of fish, while the other had various types of clothes. In the corner of her eye, she saw a long wooden box filled with dirt and vegetables, a contraption she had never thought of, sitting around in the midst of the indoor area. As she took in the scene, she tried searching for a door. An opening, a way out.

"It's underground," Jameson explained beside her. His hand shifted to the small of her back. "See, the light is coming from the fire." And he was right. All against the walls were large fires, brightening up the room so greatly that she might have believed they were outside if they hadn't been enclosed.

"How are they living underground?" Selene asked breathlessly. "How are their gardens without any sunlight? How are people surviving without resources, without civilization?" And as she looked at Jameson, hungry for answers, she watched as his eyes glazed over the scene slowly. Almost as if, despite everything, even he was marveled by what was in front of them.

"Just like Velaris, they have people on the other side," Jameson replied quietly. "Trading with them, helping their cause." Selene's eyebrows furrowed.

"Their cause?" Leon interrupted. Selene swung her head behind her, catching a glance at Leon's pale face. For a moment, she had forgotten he was there. "Cause? Are these…"

"Rebels," Rosalie breathed. "They're rebels." And there was something close to admiration when she said it out loud, the words ringing against her tongue in awe. At first none of them spoke, not even breathing a word.

"This is treason. This is-" But then her voice quietened. A child walking by her, not a day older than ten, started coughing manically. At first she twitched away, but as she saw the people around them not even stopping for the girl, she grew closer to him. Selene crouched down, her throat tightening as she reached for her. But as she let her hand out for the child, Jameson yanked her away violently. She spun towards him, inhaling raggedly.

"Don't touch her," Jameson said snappily, before she could speak, "She's infected. It isn't airborne but…" And then Selene saw it. All of her the child there were tiny green dots that infected her head to toe. The child's eyes were red and puffy and she was far too skinny for her size.

"It can spread by skin to skin contact," A voice, higher pitched yet far calmer, interrupted. Slowly, standing up straight, Selene looked in front of her. It was a girl – probably as old as herself. She had light brown skin with silky black hair and amber-like eyes. She was pretty, too pretty to be locked underground at least. As she shed off her gloves and held out her hand, Selene was quiet. "My name is Camille. I'm the nurse here. Don't worry – I'm immune to the virus. I just wear gloves for extra caution." Selene felt herself shake her hand absently, confusion washing over her face.

"Camille," she repeated aloud, as if the name itself was a mystery. "It's nice to meet you." Camille's smile widened.

"Are you just showing them around?" Camille asked Jameson softly, yet there was something crisp at the end of her sentence. As if she, too, was protective of her people. But the joy in her voice – Selene almost felt jealous. "Usually we don't give tours unless you're interested in joining...but we aren't against outsiders."

"Outsiders?" Selene asked, though her smile held up. "Is that what you call people who don't live here?" Camille gave a little chuckle.

"And what would you call us? We don't live with you," Camille replied easily. But there were many answers that appeared in Selene's head – traitor, liar, fools. Selene didn't always have the easiest time in the Night Court but she never ran. She was dedicated to her people, even if they weren't dedicated to her.

"Come, follow me," Camille said. Her eyes ran towards Jameson, begging him to bring her back, but Camille took her clammy hands. "Let me show you around."

Selene's comrades followed the both of them as Camille showed them the underground colony. She showed them the small school they had for the children, the developing clinic where they had just gotten an import on medications, she showed them the many gardens they had planted in pots and baskets. She introduced them to a few of their leaders – females, to Selene's surprise. Selene couldn't help but notice the smug smile on Jameson's face when she realized they were governed by women. Afterwords, Camille gestured to some of the tents and introduced her to some of the people. But Selene didn't get too close. She didn't want to know these people, to understand them. She knew enough.

"Thank you for showing me this," Selene murmured. Her voice was cold – distant. Disinterested, to say the least. "But we have to leave." Her eyes found Jameson's but Camille's hard eyes pulled her away. They shook her with such intensity that Selene suddenly thought that maybe her soft demeanor was simply the calm before the storm.

"Why did you come if you aren't interested in our colony?" Camille asked. Selene goggled at her.

"Not interested? I just toured your colony for over an hour," Selene objected. "It's amazing but it's not for me." Camille's eyes shot towards Jameson coolly. Clearly, Camille had met them on the impression that they would help them with whatever they needed. They were just supposed to be resources the colony was meant to use. As Jameson held her cold stare, he put his hands in his pockets casually.

"Go on. Look at her, Camille," Jameson demanded. "Look at her. Why would I ever bring her?" And at first there was silence. Carefully, silently, she felt Leon put a hand on her hip, as if waiting in the cold silence for something bad to happen but then Camille's head turned towards her again. There was something about this Camille-woman, Selene thought, that she didn't like.

"He must have seen me to be curious, but I am not," Selene said smoothly. "Now, I think it's evident for the both of us that I am unneeded here." Selene began to shrunk back towards Jameson but Camille's eyes were unyielding now. She stared and stared at her, as if unraveling her bodily layers one by one.

"Who are you?" Camille demanded. "If Jameson truly brought you here for a reason-" Camille's eyes were merciless when she shot Jameson a look. "-then who are you? At least tell me that." Selene's hands balled.

"None of your concern," Selene said in a small, icy voice. "Now, I'm leaving. _We're_ leaving." But then a light dawned on Camille's face – a light that was far from soft. Almost like she had realized something wicked...wicked but victorious.

"You were there," Camille's voice was stern. "You were at the High Lord's Calanmai? That's why he brought you?" Selene hesitated.

"I was just a visitor," She said carefully. "I didn't see much of the riot." And though Selene saw the disbelief in Camille's eyes, Camille didn't argue. Instead, she clucked her tongue.

"What a shame," Camille said, "Your beast is probably dying to be unleashed." 

"My beast?" Selene said, and her smile had disappeared. "I have no beast. I am a good, honorable women-"

"Everybody has a beast, dear," Camille corrected. "It's people like us – people who don't let them out when everybody is watching– who have the most terrifying ones." Selene didn't even blink at her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Do you not?" Camille repeated back, in the same exact tone. "You are clearly confused on what this place is and yet you have not asked why we're underground. Don't you care?" And then Selene took a step towards her.

"Fine, indulge me, Camille. Why are you here, hiding underground, avoiding the High Lord of Night?" Selene asked. And then Camille rose her chin slowly.

"Because first he killed the elders. And then he sent his army to rape the women. And then he threatened to the kill the children," Camille hissed. Selene's mouth dried up instantly. "All for a piece of land. And then, when we still didn't leave, he poisoned us with disease and death. And now we are the only ones left."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Camille, after her speech, had left them alone with Jameson. Selene had turned towards him sharply.

"What have you told these people?" Selene demanded. Jameson's eyebrows rose.

"Me? What do you mean what I have told these people?" Jameson blanched. Selene shook her head slowly.

"This is your doing," She said slowly, in a low, crisp voice. "You told them that he's been hurting them." And this time, Jameson didn't laugh. Instead, he was still. Very, very still.

"I didn't start this colony, Selene," Jameson countered. "Camille did. She invited me." And though his voice was sincere and wasn't filled with the threatric emotion that he insisted on showing, she knew something was wrong.

"Then they're wrong and you're allowing them to think those atrocious-"

"They saw it with their own _eyes_ ," Jameson argued. Selene scuffed.

"And why would he do that? Why would he ever destroy land, poison children, hurt innocent people?" Selene bursted. "Why would he ever do that?"

"To be the best," Jameson argued. "To be the richest. To dominate the earth. He needed the older groups, the indigenous people who have stayed on the same land since the beginning of time, to leave. To disappear. And you were the start of it." Selene took a step towards him. She had almost put her hand to her stomach, as if to protect the baby she was yet to have, but thankfully she didn't.

"Don't bring me into th-"

"When he found you, he increased his forces ten fold against the weaker areas," Jameson said. "He told me he'd give me ten extra months to relocate them, but when you came along he told me he wouldn't wait. So, instead, he destroyed all of it."

"That sounds ludicrous," Selene scuffed, rolling her eyes. "I did nothing. I'm just his wife." Something close to pity filled Jameson's face when she said that.

"He saw you as a weapon. An excuse to increase his forces," Jameson corrected her. "I know you didn't chose this but...he's poisonous. You reminded him of the fire he lusted for. A world just for himself. And you were gasoline to his fire." She heard a dark chuckle echo behind her. She peaked behind her shoulder, eyeing Leon's cold face. For a moment, she saw how powerful he could have been if he were High Lord. Merciless, stealthy. But quiet and calculating all the same.

"Look at this, Leon." And then Jameson opened the nearest tent to them and she inhaled raggedly. A group of women were huddled in there, their eyes wide as Jameson yanked open the entrance. There were...burns on them. But it wasn't just charred colors – it was truly black. Black as night. Black straight streaks that ran across their arms and faces and legs. Too black for just a simple burn. "Only one thing can make these marks – an obsidian knife that only a High Lord can hold. And you want to guess why he did it? Because they were trying to get their babies out. Their village, with their own customs, keeps all the babies in one tent but they couldn't leave quick enough. There were too many babies to hold, and too little women to reach them. So he burned them with his black obsidian knife. He slit at them as they held babies in their arms. They weren't doing anything. They just wanted to leave with the children."

Even though Leon's eyes were still dark, she had heard him suck in a breath.

"He wouldn't do this," Leon snarled, though his voice was feeble. "He does everything for a reason. If he takes a life, it is always with a reason."

"Like he killed your father?" Jameson goaded. Leon was silent as he glowered at him. "Isn't that a rule for High Lords? That if a High Lord successor kills his father, then he'll grow twice as mad? If not, every successor would kill their father to get the throne." Leon showed his pointed teeth at him, but then his eyes flickered again as he took in the dark scene in front of him.

"Tobias isn't mad," Selene interrupted. "And until you find substantial proof that he was even in the room when his father died, your claims lie alone." The fierce look on her face, unlike Leon's, was unyielding. Jameson blinked at her. Like he didn't know how to respond to the girl who proved everybody wrong.

"Maybe I don't have proof," Jameson said lightly. "But who in their right mind would ever make a deal with _Clythia_?"

And this time Jameson looked through her like glass. Because she saw it too – even though Tobias claimed to be under a spell, he was still entranced deep down. She had saw the deep, calculating look in his eyes when she went into his office. She saw as he looked down at those papers as if they were the most important things he had ever witnessed. As if everything, everything in their lives, were dependent on Tobias's decision. Like it was the only thing that mattered.

"That's different," she answered. He tilted his head at her.

"What if this was all you, Selene?" He continued, gesturing to the colony around them. At the burned women, the poisoned children, the scraps of something that was once a village. Suddenly, she felt very cold. Unnaturally cold.

"Take me home," Selene said. "You have lost me, Jameson."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Selene. Step away from him." Jameson didn't hesitate to take them back this time. He delivered them straight to the safehouse. But Selene's head was bleating as soon as she stepping into the air, thinking about those people – the poisoned children, the scarred women. And then she heard his voice...

He had changed clothes. He wore flexible black pants with a loose, dark tunic. Barefoot, comfortable, yet he seemed powerful as the light shone through the window and hit his clothes without a single reflection back. Slowly, carefully, Jameson stepped away.

Surprisingly though, it was Leon who stepped in front of her. "Tobias, he wasn't trying to hurt her. He..." And Selene saw it now. Tobias's eyes were running up and down her body, looking at her. Looking for something.

"What were you doing?" He demanded. At first, Selene didn't know who he was speaking to – Jameson? Leon? But then she realized he was talking to her. Only her.

"Jameson wanted to..." She reached Leon's eyes. For whatever reason, he was staring at her harshly. As if begging her to be careful when it came to her next words. "He was being a fool, that is all. He wanted to be apart of Velaris. He was begging us to let him be a citizen. That's why he was here. We agreed to go with him somewhere quieter." And she didn't know why she was lying – for Leon? For Jameson? Yet, as she held Tobias's stare, she realized she was lying for herself. She was lying because she didn't know what he was thinking in his erratic head.

"Quieter?" Tobias asked. His voice was smooth, almost casual, but she knew better.

"I was stupid enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. But we knew you wouldn't like it so we refused his offer. Don't worry," Selene said. And then Tobias's eyes looked towards Jameson.

"You dare walk into my sacred city?" Tobias hissed. "You dare disobey my rule?" Jameson's jaw clenched.

"You need to listen to your wife," Jameson snarled back. "It was just a conversation." A cold, slithery smile filled his face.

"No," Tobias replied simply. Jameson's straight composure twitched forward.

"Leon was with us the entire time. And the who-her lady in waiting. She was with us too," Jameson replied hurriedly. Selene's eyebrows furrowed down. It wasn't necessarily a lie – it was a peaceful conversation. Why didn't Tobias believe her.

"You're lying," Tobias said. And then he went to his black belt, always decorated with different knives. He picked one from his side, one she had never seen him pick. The entire knife was made from the same black stone – including the handle. Her eyes narrowed on it.

"It was just a small talk," Leon intervened. "Tobias, this isn't necessary." A shiver began to run down Selene's spine. _What was happening?_

"Tobias, you aren't going to actually use that on-" And then Tobias moved it. No, not even stepped towards Jameson. He didn't move an inch. Yet he held his knife pointed towards him, as if he was drawing something into the air. Leon's face began to drain, his eyes widening.

"Tob-" But then Jameson swallowed a scream. He fell to his knees, hissing through his teeth.

"Tobias, stop!" Leon interrupted, taking a step towards him. But it was a small step, a cautious step. Not like he was truly willing to get into the fight. "This is unnecessary." Selene's eyes widened as she saw the black mark begin to fall across Jameson's cheek. Dark, charred. Like a pure black burn, yet straight as a line. Like the women in the colony.

Her mouth opened, a naseau filling into her stomach. At a distance, she heard Tobias talking. Threatening quietly, telling him what he did wrong. Telling him he would spare him simply out of politics. Telling him what would happen if he ever stepped into Velaris again.

She kept telling herself to speak out, to stop Tobias, yet she couldn't do it. Not because she couldn't physically do it, but the pure shock going through her body made her incapable. It was something he had never done – he had always kept her away from the fire, away from his darkness. He loved her. Why would he ever allow her to see this?

But then it dawned on her, quite suddenly, that he wasn't just her husband. He was her High Lord. Her superior. In the end, she bended the knee. In the end, her objections were meaningless. In the end, she had to know what he was capable of doing.

His eyes flickered at her fast, almost like he was daring her to speak. Daring her to test the consequences. She was lucky to not be kneeling in front of him, to not be facing what he was. She looked away obediently, her eyes falling to the ground. She wouldn't say anything, even though she recognized those black streaks, she wouldn't say a word.

REVIEW PLEASE! Sorry for the formatting issue and that it took me so long. It's been a hard semester. But please review


	12. Chapter 12

"We aren't going to get the stone out in thirty-years. It's mathematically impossible." The voices behind her bantered loudly, but Selene's eyes dropped to her hand. There were three, short red marks. Seven days later, she couldn't stop clenching her hands until she bled. Seven days after wondering if he was alive, if he was okay, if she was horrible. The guilt – the guilt was killing her. The guilt of not saying anything.

"And I thought I had made a deal with the devil. Where is that devil now?" Selene's eyes flickered upward, taking in the grand scene once more. Tobias had scooted out of his chair jerkily, agitated as his eyes looked glared outside the window. Leon was still in his chair but his face was turned away, as if he had just got done with rolling his eyes dramatically. But beside him, Clythia sat victoriously. She sunk deeper into her chair with a smirk. Selene could feel the anger build up inside her once more as she took Clythia in. _It's just work, Selene,_ Tobias had told her. _She's only going to be here for an hour._ Yes, she would be. For the third time this week. Selene was tempted to remind him that, but when her eyes scrolled down Clythia's glimmering rose-gold gown, and the prissy look on her face, she knew there no use. Drunk or not, Clythia had a string attached to him.

"Amazingly enough, the devil has more to worry about then just money," Selene drawled, looking nowhere with a bored expression on her face. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Clythia glowering at her. "Maybe you should take that advice." Tobias's eyes flickered at her cautiously but she didn't cower from Clythia.

"And you know so much about politics?" Clythia said, leaning over the table to grow closer. Tobias looked over his shoulder sharply.

"Watch yourself, Clythia," Tobias warned with a low growl. "This alliance is very much conditional." Clythia leaned back as she lifted up her palms innocently. She puckered her lips at him.

"Sorry, Lady Selene," Clythia said, though the apology only made Selene angrier. "I just mean….unless you've had experience, it's hard to really say."

"Actually, I have had experience in this area. I've seen those Illyrians go overworked. I've seen them die from exhaustion. I'd like to remind you that those are _my_ people," Selene said. Tobias's patience had disappeared entirely. She could feel Leon's gaze on her – lingering on her as if he was impressed by her words, but he didn't say a word.

"We're high leaders," Clythia argued. "Their opinion is irrelevant. They don't see the greater good. They can't-"

"Think at the same level as you?" Selene finished, her eyebrows raising. "I can understand every word that you're saying, Clythia. I've been tutored by these people, raised by these people." Tobias, who was still lingering out the large windows, huffed. Quickly, Selene's eyes jotted towards him.

"Barely," he muttered. Selene's strong expression collapsed. Her mouth opened a little bit and then closed. Clythia, not in view of Tobias, gave out a silent laugh while Leon inched closer across the table. His face tightened.

"I agree with her," Leon said easily. There was not a slight hesitation in his voice. "Selene knows these people, Tobias. I'm taking her side on this." Tobias whirled around sharply, staring at her.

"Then what do you think, Selene?" He demanded. His voice was flat but she could tell he was embarrassed by her outburst. "Give me an idea." She rose her chin bravely.

"You consult their leaders," Selene said, as if she hadn't even heard his tone. "You ask their opinion. They aren't going to say no – they enjoy the challenge. They find pride in doing something that people say is the impossible. But they'll tell you whether it's realistic or if it's a dream. They'll tell you the truth." Clythia blinked at her stupidly.

"Tobias-"

"Leave, Clythia," Tobias said sharply. "This meeting is going to be postponed." Clythia had a face filled with objection but Leon's expressed was filled with _what are you waiting for, go_ , that she didn't hesitate. She turned to Tobias, a bright smile on her face.

"I look forward to our next meeting," she said, and then disappeared before anybody else could say another word.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Tobias-" Leon's words came out before Clythia was fully gone. Selene looked over next to her and saw that Leon was closer than before, hovering over her.

"Find me a solution," Tobias said, looking at Selene. "Give me a fucking solution then, Selene." Selene and Leon couldn't help but exchange looks, surprise flickering on both of their faces.

"Well, um…" Selene's voice choked for a moment. She hadn't expected him to let her speak. "I think we should…ask. Just ask." Tobias crossed his arms, his eyebrows raising.

"If we just asked every time the court had to make a decision based on greater good, we would be in ashes right now," Tobias snapped. "If you're going to undermine me, my rule, you might as well give me a damn good solution." Tobias's eyes turned towards Leon as well, eyeing him coldly.

"We have a party," Leon offered. "A ball, a conference, whatever it takes. And we invite all of them – all of the generals, all of the leaders, all of the individuals who have made hard choices. All of whom are in the books of men who have gone beyond their duty. And _yes_ , we ask. We nonchalantly ask, whispering in their ear, making it casual conversation." Tobias chewed on the inside of his lip contemplatively. The anger had washed away a little bit – now it was only frustration and hard choices.

"They're commoners. How can they comprehend this type of issue?" Tobias asked, not without purposely avoiding Selene's eyes. Selene shook her head, her face filled with disgust.

"They die for you," Selene said. "They don't just blindly go into slaughter and fight for their court. Just like me, just like you, they are people. And they deserve a voice." The darkness on Tobias's face showed otherwise.

"And Clythia is not invited," Leon added. Selene's eyebrows rose. It was a bold demand, saying as Tobias and Clythia's relationship was strengthening every time they spoke to each other. In the beginning, it was short sentences between the two of them. Now, their meetings were held for at least two hours at a time. Sometimes Tobias would even force Leon and Selene to leave if they became too hostile against Clythia. Of course, Tobias's relationship with Clythia was far more breakable, but she was always careful on not stepping past that line, unlike Leon and Selene.

"Clythia is invited," Tobias argued dryly. "I think I come off…unlikable. I need somebody like Clythia to attract them. To persuade the Illyrians to see our perspective."

"But-"

"No!" Tobias growled at the both of them. "I'm doing this your way – once, and only once. But Clythia is invited. This is her dream as well. I am not going to punish her just because you two refuse to forget something that happened ages ago." Selene's lips pursed.

"I didn't know she was a part of our family now," Leon said, cold and quiet. Tobias's snarl went down as he held Leon's chilling gaze. Tobias reflected his gaze with something unreadable, as if he was trying to see something that Selene would never be able to detect. They stared and stared at each other, Leon's piercing look harsher than Selene could muster, and Tobias's scrutinizing stare glistening with uncertainty.

"Family is relative," Tobias said, in the exact same tone.

"Not to me," Selene interrupted, rising from her chair jerkily. "Not to _us_ , Tobias."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She had locked the bedroom door as soon as she went in, throwing off all of the sparkly jewelry that she insisted on wearing so flauntingly when Clythia came over, and sliding off the latest expensive dress that Tobias had bought her. Everything was so pretty – the jewelry, the dresses, the makeup and the hair style. She thought she could use it as a weapon. She wanted to show Clythia how powerful she was, how much of an influence she had over her husband. She realized, though, after that conversation, it wasn't worth anything. Because Clythia's jealousy didn't stem from expensive gifts or proving who had more of an influence. It stemmed from power.

She immediately went towards a paper and pen, making sure to write down every important man and woman who could have a significant effect on this party. Who was more important? And what side was she trying to persuade?

"I can't go." She looked up, jumping slightly. Leon was lingering in front of the locked door, facing her. She looked puzzled.

"But-how-"

"Winnowed," Leon said, a small smile on his face. "But no, seriously, I can't go." She shook her head lightly, blinking.

"Okay, _why_?" She asked. "This was your idea too." Leon laughed lightly at this, pacing in a circle in front of her. His arms were crossed against his chest and his eyes seemed so far away.

"I have to meet with the heir of Autumn," Leon said. Quickly, Selene jumped to her feet.

"Is he sending you away?" Selene breathed. Leon shook his head fast, walking towards her.

"No, I volunteered to go," Leon said. "The heir of Autumn has been a…hassle for a while now and I just got word that he's willing to meet. I'm sorry but I can't miss out on this. I've been trying to persuade him for a meeting for months." The desperate look on her face dissolved and her eyebrows furrowed down.

"Does Tobias know this?" She asked, her voice soft. "That you're not going to attend his ball?"

"He knows. He doesn't mind," Leon said evenly. "Anyways, this ball isn't exactly about me and him. It's about Clythia and him." And while there wasn't a single hint of bitterness in Leon's words, it hit Selene like a boulder.

"Right," she whispered. "Well, good luck to you." And when Leon smiled back, worry was etched on his face. He looked down at her, swallowing.

"Good luck to you as well, beautiful Selene," Leon whispered, and then winnowed away without a second look.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Can't I just kill them all?" Tobias muttered, leading her into the large ballroom. Her black, slick dress slithered against the floor. It was one of her best – a silk dress that slowly transitioned into a dark purple lace as it tickled the floor. Throughout her dress, there were random diamonds here and there. It was the last dress that Leon presented her before he left for the Autumn Court. Possibly a materialistic apology.

"No," Selene said, a small smile on your lips. Tobias grunted displeasingly.

"My child is never going to deal with this," Tobias whispered. "Hopefully, I'll find a solution to all of this boringness by the time she's of age." Selene let out a small chuckle.

"Oh, you're not just going to marry her off?" Selene said, joking now. Tobias snorted at this.

"More like someone's son will be married off to her," Tobias said. "Truthfully, I'm glad she's not a boy. For one, a boy having the spirit of both of us would be disastrous." A butterfly fluttered in her stomach when she heard his words. The usually talked about the baby daily, but he rarely talked about it unless it was relevant.

"Also, where are the Illyrians?" Tobias said, staring around. People walked around buzzingly, filling in each space of the ballroom, occasionally speaking stiffly with Tobias, but so far nobody had gotten any progress done. "I don't see any wings." The small smile stretched across her face further.

"They, like me, know how to hide it. Especially since they're higher ranked and their flight abilities are more advanced," Selene said. Tobias looked down at her. At her deep plunge, the slight curve of her body, the miniature bump that nobody would ever be able to detect in a dress so dark. Diamonds were scattered down her dress – enough just to make people look twice. Her hand was in curls and was pinned up elegantly, letting the occasional curls to bounce down elegantly. A large garnet stone was hanging around her neck gloriously.

"I'm lucky to have you," Tobias said. She looked up at him and his twisting dark eyes. "I know I don't say it but I couldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I wouldn't ever get this far." At first she was quiet, her lips opened slightly, but then the redheaded gorgon walked in front of her.

She was just as beautiful as Selene, if not more. She wore a long-sleeved, black lace dress that was entirely see-through right until her nipples and tickled the floor powerfully, alike to Selene's. There was a slit on the side of her dress, teasing men with her seductive figure and tugged around her tightly. She looked like a queen in her dress – a dark, terrifying queen. Her lips were dark red and her hair was made in large red curls that caressed her oval-shaped face. Her eyes were dancing when she looked at Tobias. Tobias smirked.

"I've talked to all of the high officials here, already," she told him. As Selene looked around, she noticed the ballroom was divided – most of the Illyrian men, dressed in nice Illyrian attire, were lingering on one side while the higher officials lingered on another.

"And?" Tobias asked, his voice gruff. "What did they say?" Her slithery smile lengthened.

"They love it," she said, her red lips tickling her champagne glass. "And they love you, Tobias. They're eating it up."

"And the Illyrians?" Selene said. For the first time, Clythia's eyes ran down her. She glanced at her as if she had entirely forgotten she was there – that she even existed.

"They haven't even tried conversing with me. Most didn't even bother to come," Clythia said, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter though, we have already gotten enough backing." Selene let out an amused exhale.

"We weren't trying to get the high-face backing. We wanted the _Illyrian_ backing." Clythia shot her a look of annoyance.

"Then you can go talk to them," Clythia hissed. Tobias wasn't even paying attention – his eyes were gazing over at the area where the high-fae were lingering, eating and laughing. Some had transitioned to the dance floor, but most were mingling together. Tobias's back seemed to straighten as he looked at them.

"I will," Selene said, matter-of-factly. "Please, continue mingling with your higher-fae. I would love to see how far it gets you." Her words went straight over Clythia's head. Instead, Clythia put her long fingers on Tobias's shoulder.

"Come on," she said to Tobias. "Let Selene go talk to the Illyrians. I need to introduce you to some people." Tobias let her go slowly, leaning close to Clythia as they walked together towards the group of people. While Tobias had briefly introduced her to some of the individuals mingling, she hadn't exactly met them. Instead, Clythia would be the first to join him when he introduced himself to the higher-fae. They looked like a power-couple as they walked away from her and she felt the firm look on her face disappear the farther Clythia and Tobias went. As they stopped, Clythia put her hand on Tobias's shoulder.

"Selene," A voice breathed. Suddenly, Selene whirled around and right when she connected eyes, she felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

"Devlon," she said, in the same exact tone. He was cleaner than she remembered but everything else about him was the same – his large stature, his wide shoulders, his tan skin, the slight stubble on his face - it was the same. His dark, messy hair was carefully tamed behind his ears was something she had never seen, but the brown-black strands nearly glowed under the fire-torched light. He was dressed in a traditional uniform, something she was surprised he could even fit in. All she remembered was the sweat-wet hair, seeing him scream in the pouring ice-rain as other Illyrians' blood ran down his body. She looked down at him, imagining the old symbols that he had tattooed over his chest, the inside of his arm, all over his body that his uniform now covered.

"You're not dead," she said. She flushed as she realized she had said it out loud and at first he looked at her emotionlessly, like he was staring at a brick wall, but a smile appeared.

"You think someone would be able to kill me?" He said, his eyebrows rising. " _Me_?" But she couldn't reply. She was tongue tied as she stared at him, trying to take in every inch of him.

"You're not dead," he breathed. And she knew he meant it –the darkness rang in his voice, the worry finally showing as his scrolled around her. "I heard but I didn't actually think he'd…" She smiled.

"Handle me?" She finished. "He can't." He looked around hastily, eyeing the people around them.

"I don't trust them," he admitted, pointing to the lingering men with his eyes. "Dance with me, so I can talk to you." She took his hand, firm with callouses and scars, and glided against his body to the slow, vibrant song.

At first he didn't speak, just kept looking at her wildly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he whispered. She took in a breath, shaking her head as he spun her. Everything around them seemed to fade away as they danced, breathing into each other, the memories flashing beyond their eyes.

"I've thought the same," she admitted quietly. "I didn't think you'd be invited." He didn't say anything, as if avoiding the topic entirely.

"I lost sleep wondering if you'd gotten caught," he whispered. "I thought of you every day. But when I heard…I thought he must've locked you up. That you were worse than dead." She felt her cheeks burn as she struggled to form words.

"I wouldn't let that happen to me," she replied. "I would burn this whole place down before that happened." He gave her a tilted smile.

"Of course. I've taught you well," he said back, his eyes searching hers. Evaluating her, trying to find the girl she once well. "You've changed." She blinked. She couldn't disagree with it, he was correct. But she knew he didn't like change. He believed in embracing, maximizing, your potential. Not changing it.

"I'm not the girl you once thought I was," she replied, her voice coming off nervous. "I grew up." He let out an exhale.

"You look…" His voice trailed off, his eyes dangling on the black dress. She noticed how his eyes looked at each diamond, his face unreadable as he scanned her from head to toe.

"Look what?" She asked, her voice breaking. She waited for him to say it – the disdain, the disgust to ring in his voice. But then he gave her a half-smile, something hard to accomplish when it came to Devlon.

"Like you should," Devlon answered, so very carefully. Her smile collapsed. Her feet stopped sliding with the rhythm and she could feel her hands loosen around him. But he kept leading her along, not twitching even though she had nearly flinched.

"That's not fair," she hissed. "You don't get to say that to me. Not you, of all people." His eyebrows rose innocently.

"Selene, it was a complim-"

"No it's not," she snapped fast. "You know it's not. You hate these things. You hate these people." His eyes didn't fall away from hers. Instead, they stayed there, staring into her like she was broken glass.

"I don't hate you," He replied carefully. She gave a sarcastic, low chuckle.

"How did you even get invited to this thing?" She asked sharply. "What, you're telling me they invited a foot soldier to a ball concerning the High Lord of Night?" His face turned dead white. He stopped trying to dance with her, his eyes darkening. Immediately, she regretted it. Her stomach spun nervously.

"Devlon-"

"No," he said stiffly. "You're right, Selene. They would never invite a petty foot soldier here."

"I just meant, that after you left and never came back, I just assumed-"

"That I would never go up the ranks?" He asked, his voice like sharp glass. "Like I wasn't good enough to accomplish something? Who would want a low-born Illyrian, right?" She shook her head sharply.

"The last time I heard from you, you were half-assing all of your duties," she said defensively. "What else was I supposed to assume?" This time Devlon let out a chuckle. It was beyond his personality to laugh in coldness – especially to her.

"That's funny, saying as your whole job is to be a whore to the High Lord," Devlon spat back. Her shoulders lurched forward and the words – it felt like a dagger to the heart. Like everything she had ever accomplished, everything she was, was truly nothing.

"Go on then," she said quietly. Her eyes didn't fall away from his. If anything she hung onto them tightly, making sure he didn't fall away from her unforgivable stare. "Tell me what you made yourself to be. How good you are now. How much better you are compared to the rest of us. How superior you are, now that nobody else is there to hold you down." At first he was quiet, taking advantage of the silence, but then he rose his chin.

"I'm a commander who is in charge of a pilot program," he responded proudly. "A number of us are trying to figure out how Illyrians can excel in water and can create a community under water. There is research being found that our wings can be used as propellers and that we might, as a species, do better underwater if only we figure out how to breathe."

"We don't even have a legitimate fleet," Selene replied dryly. "Why bother?" His eyes narrowed on her.

. "I'm working with some of the best, honorable Illyrians that are alive so that we can strengthen our warriors on multiple fronts. You know, the type of warriors your husband is trying to murder." For whatever reason, she felt her eyes burn.

"What a waste for you to be here, then _._ You obviously don't have an interest in my husband's proposal," Selene said, hiding her choke with a mirthless laugh.

"Is that what you call this? A _proposal_?" Devlon asked. "Tell me, what merit does taking over the world have? How does that benefit the Illyrians?"

"What _are_ you doing here, Devlon?"

"I came here to warn you," Devlon said, his lips tickling her ear. "But clearly I underestimated how much these people have changed you." His eyes lingered at Tobias, who was standing hazardously close to Clythia as they spoke to higher officials. "I've heard about _her_ before too."

"Just because I'm married to the High Lord, it doesn't mean I'm brainwashed by everybody here," Selene argued dryly. "My voice is listened to just as seriously as everybody else's." Devlon scoffed at this.

"I can see that clearly," he replied, eyeing Clythia dangerously. "Especially after I've heard of all the atrocities _she's_ openly committing against her own people." There was no mercy in his eyes – like he could kill her right then and there if only he could get away with it. Selene's lips pursed.

"They're just colleagues," Selene clarified. Devlon's face remained the same, hard and

analyzing as his eyes nailed on Tobias.

"I'm sure they are," Devlon agreed stiffly. "And I'm sure everything is perfect here. I am sure he loves you dearly and gives you everything you will ever need. I'm sure everything is how you always dreamed. All the luxuries, the perfect food, the wonderful balls and no need to ever worry about anything ever again. It's what you always wanted, right?"

"It is what I always wanted, for your information."

"Good."

" _Great_."

"My opinion is irrelevant anyways."  
"I'm glad you noticed."

"Soon, you'll be popping out babies. Don't forget to name one after me."

"That may be a bit difficult saying as I'm pregnant with a girl." He flinched. His eyes widened for just a moment, breaking the defensive expression on his face.

"What?" he asked feebly. She felt a chill go down her back. Once again, she felt her baby weigh on her uncomfortably – the invisible bump feeling obscenely heavy now that her secret has been discovered. And the fact that he had stopped so sharply, his face appearing so stricken, so broken, made her palms sweat. She tried pulling away but whether consciously or unconsciously, Devlon pulled her back. His eyes were searching her eyes frantically, trying to understand without asking.

"I'm only a few months along. Only a handful of people know," she muttered quietly.

"Does Clythia know?" He asked. "Does she know the High Lord's wife is pregnant?" His voice rang back at her demandingly, as if this was another duty that he was desperate to accomplish.

"No," Selene snapped. "It's none of her business. And it's none of your business either, frankly." His eyes shifted and his face tightened. At first he was quiet and the anger collapsed from his face so fast that Selene was nearly unnerved.

"Did they," Devlon said, his voice quieter, "Selene, did he clip you? Is that why you-"

"What did you just say to me?" She spat. The couple nearest to them shifted towards her briefly before quickly going on with their dance farther away. She yanked her hands away from his. Devlon's back straightened further, the militaristic man showing once again.

"Did he fucking clip you?" Devlon said, his voice rougher. He didn't even hesitate when he said the words.

"No, he didn't fucking clip me. I chose this life, Devlon. I have my wings and I still chose to have the life of a royal. You can be an Illyrian and have both," Selene snarled. Devlon didn't argue. Instead, he just stared and stared at her. He wasn't going to tell her otherwise – he wasn't going to tell her how to live her life. It wasn't his job. But he didn't stop himself from looking above him, at the tight ceilings and the large windows that overlooked nothing. She knew he was wondering how a child with wings could ever survive in a castle where ceilings blocked them from soaring into the air.

"I'm happy here, Devlon," Selene said, taking advantage out of the silence. "I love him and I love my friends and I love my people." His face was like stone. She could've sworn he stopped breathing. But she couldn't hold his judgmental gaze any further – she couldn't hold onto the horror in his eyes, she couldn't risk questioning whether her child was safe there.

She turned on her heel, about to walk away, but then he stopped her.

"I don't like him," Devlon said. His voice was crisp, quick. He spoke so fast that she had almost missed it. Selene didn't turn around, but she stopped short.

"He's your High Lord," she hissed. "Since when did you care if you liked the High Lord?"

"I will be on my knees in his name for the rest of my damn life and I am proud of that," Devlon sneered. There was a pause between his words. "But there's something off about him. Something colder. And I'll die before he takes the goodness out of you." This time, she turned around and inched closer to him. Now, he was only a few inches from her, and he touched her hand gently.

"Excuse me?" She blanched.

"Those are my fucking mountains. Not his. And I say what happens there," Devlon hissed. "If you ever change your mind, you run. You come to me and I'll take you away from all of this and he'll never, ever reach you. Because he knows that our wrath is a thousand times worse than what that bitch can do."

"Devlon-"

"Interesting," a voice drawled. "I didn't know Illyrian scum was invited here. Tell me, beautiful, who is this…foot soldier?"

~*~ discidium ~*~

She knew he hadn't heard them speak. He was too far away but, despite the forced smile, there was anger flickering in his eyes. At first she didn't understand why but then she remembered how close Devlon was from her – only a few inches. He backed away when Tobias came into view, but still not enough. He was a foot away from her, his hands stretched behind his back and his body as straight as a line.

"High Lord," Devlon greeted, his voice unusually calm. "My name is Devlon. I come from the Blue-Iced Mountains and am currently a part of a pilot program on the coast." Tobias walked like a feline cat when he grew closer, his hands shoved into his pockets and looking at Devlon with a raised eyebrow. Though Devlon was the same exact height, Tobias loomed powerfully, but it didn't have an effect on Devlon. Devlon wasn't powerful but his intimidation was glowering. Nobody could ever make him feel small.

"Pilot program?" Tobias asked dryly. He then turned to Selene, with a scowl. "Since when did we have a pilot program for Illyrians?" Devlon's face tightened. Selene opened her mouth, about to reply, but then he interrupted her.

"Wait, are you talking about that underwater thing?" _Thing_. Just another word to talk down to Devlon. "I've heard little about it. Tell me, where are we when it pertains to progress?" Devlon's face drained.

"Well, right now, we've found a good destination to work on and we found how to use our wings to maximize use in the ocean but our breathing techniques need to be-" Tobias interrupted him by swirling the liquid in his cup with magic. He looked oddly intrigued as his fingers swirled on top of his cup.

"So, really, we have made zero progress?" Tobias simplified. He then turned to Selene. "Do you know this man?" Selene sighed.

"Yes, I do," Selene said flatly. "We were…childhood friends." Tobias's eyes rose further at her. She pursed her lips. Though the hair at the back of her neck stood up, her face didn't show otherwise.

"Childhood friends?" He mimicked, his voice holding a tinge of ridicule that made Selene to tighten. He laughed as he spoke. "Illyrians are allowed to have friends? I thought their life goals to be miserable and unhappy." Selene, when she looked at Devlon, realized he hadn't even blinked. He was staring at him coldly, holding onto his mocking gaze.

"My lady is simplifying it," Devlon said. "Her village, as you may know, is used as a check point for high-ranked Illyrians when they travel. I, as a second in command to a war band leader, had spent many summers there between missions." Something flickered in Tobias's eyes and he stopped swirling his cup.

"You're a high-ranked Illyrian?" Tobias asked slowly. "And in line as a war band leader? I'm confused. I thought your occupation was playing in water." His monotone face twitched down.

"Was. I helped train many Illyrian soldiers," Devlon said, and the tenseness in his voice was finally showing. "When our camps overfilled, we would take some of our soldiers to various villages, like Lady Selene's, to train them there temporarily. I did it for many years. But in the end, my skills were stronger elsewhere, allowing me to be promoted to the pilot program on the coast." Tobias eyes stayed on him for a moment, a half smirk taking place on his face. Tobias hadn't even looked at her yet, just stared at Devlon. But she knew what he was thinking.

 _I was going to wait until some high-ranked Illyrian soldiers came through._

"Years, you say?" Tobias asked, taking another step towards him. "How long had you been doing it? In Selene's village, I mean." Devlon's face didn't even flicker.

"Five summers," Devlon said. "Though the position was given to me by my late father very early in my life. I was training people at the age of fourteen years old. Lady Selene would assist me most summers – teaching them how to make camp in the brutal terrain, showing them the hidden trails around the mountains. What to eat, where to find water. I wouldn't have been able to do it without her."

"You must miss the mountains, then," Tobias said slowly. Devlon gave a firm nod.

"It is my home," he admitted. "But my duty to my court is worth it. This position has changed my life."

"Duty, you say," Tobias said, his smirk widening. "So what do you think about my proposal? Is it _dutiful_ enough for you?" Selene's eyes shot towards Devlon. He wouldn't look at her – wouldn't even glance at her. But the look on her face was desperate.

"I've done research on it," Devlon said, "and it won't work." Selene began to feel smaller and smaller as she saw the smirk on Tobias's face disappeared.

"Research?" Tobias repeated, saying the word like it was garbage. "What do you mean by research?" A man nearby, pretentious looking but obviously of power, turned around to listen as well.

"You want to get one-third of it open in fifteen years, correct?" Devlon asked. "With eighty-percent of the Illyrian population? Well, then they'd have to do it for fifteen hours a day, seven days a week, with the wing speed of fifty flutters a minute." Tobias's face grew colder and colder as Devlon spoke.

"Which, with the assumption that every Illyrian warrior can even flutter at that speed, which most _can't_ , the exhaustion would kill them in a little over a week," Devlon added. "Which means, no, I do not think it will work, my lord." Tobias's jaw tightened. Behind him, the unknown man began to whisper to another man nearby.

"I've talked to many scholars about the mathematics," Tobias said, his voice sharp. "Men who have had decades of education while you have had…well, very little, obviously. Leave the mathematics to men who actually know what they're talking about." Devlon's face grew whiter. Behind Tobias, one of the unknown men shifted uncomfortably. Selene expected Devlon to be quiet – he knew how far his position went, he knew that at this point his ability to object was over. But he kept going.

"With all due respect, your academic scholars aren't Illyrians. They haven't studied the Illyrian anatomy, the average wing ability, observed our work ethic. They haven't timed how fast we can work and at which speed is our limit. It takes fifteen years for an individual to maximize their flight ability and yet, it takes only one bad turn to destroy their wings. Our wings are also heavily associated with body fluids – so what happens, my lord, when it gets too cold for them and they are thousands of feet in the air? Your scholars may have studied the mountain, and maybe even the temperatures at the dead of winter, but they haven't studied us," Devlon finished. Five or six men behind Tobias were staring, whispering to each other frantically. Selene, she realized, had inched closer to Devlon. Tobias's eyes were blazing. She saw, on the cup he was holding, that there was a crack. Devlon, on the other hand, was glowing. He didn't dare smile, but there was victory in his eyes.

"Thank the cauldron," a high-pitched voice drawled. "We wouldn't want your inferiority leaking onto us." Devlon and Selene looked behind them. Clythia broke into the crowd, standing between Selene and Tobias. Devlon's eyes were almost as cold as Tobias's when Clythia made eye contact.

"What did you just say?" Devlon snarled. "Our _inferiority_?" A couple men chuckled but Selene was no longer paying attention. She had tunnel vision as she glared at Clythia.

"You were invited as a courtesy," Clythia growled. "You should feel honored that we allow you creatures to walk this earth, let alone be in our presence." Selene looked at Tobias but he hadn't so much as moved. He was still staring at Devlon deathly, but if there was one person in the world that his glare wouldn't effect, it was Devlon.

"But then who would win your wars and fight for your survival?" Devlon snarled back. While her smile remained, her nose flared just slightly.

"That's what _they_ said before I wiped out their entire race," Clythia said, showing her sharp teeth. "Now their bodies decorate my castle like trophies. Tell me, would you rather your wings pinned above your high lord's bed or used as his fire wood?" Devlon stiffened and Selene stepped in front of him. Bile rose in her throat, thinking about Devlon's wing being peeled off his body like dead skin. They all eyed them deliciously, as if this was the entertainment that they wanted tonight. To watch an Illyrian's wings to be pulled off and tortured.

"That's enough," Selene spat at her. A crowd was around them now, watching humorously. Though Devlon moved in front of her stubbornly, making sure he grew as close to Clythia as possible, every eye remained on Selene. "His wings will never be touched as long as I am the Lady of the High Lord. You'll have to go through _me_ to get them." Clythia didn't even glance at her.

"Oh, don't worry, Lady Selene, you aren't an Illyrian," Clythia said easily, eyeing Devlon like pure dessert. "You've risen above the disgusting disease that you inherited at your birth and have proven yourself to your High Lord." Selene was so at awe of Clythia's horrifying comments that her lips quivered.

"I am an Illyrian," Selene said, emphasizing each word. "I was born one and I will die as one." She looked over at Tobias but he still hadn't caught her eyes, he was still staring at Devlon. Harsher and harsher, like every word that was being passed wasn't even going into his ears.

"Selene," Tobias said, and she nearly flinched at the tone of his voice. "Escort him out. I don't want him in my home."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The moment the two large double doors slammed behind them, Devlon gave her a look worse than death. Not just of anger – of pain, of betrayal, of cruelty.

"Devlon-" But he kept walking. Past the large columns, past the gigantic windows, and further down the hall to wear the house doors were.

"Don't bother," Devlon said. "She's right, you know. You aren't one of us and your child will never be one of us either." Selene's mouth opened in objection.

"How dare you say that!" Selene hissed. "I am fully an Illyrian. I lived in those villages and I fought to keep my wings intact every day. And my child…my child will have wings and she will fly and she will be great!" And though her words rang, they were half-hearted. Devlon stopped jerkily in front of the house doors, laughing under his breath. He then turned around slowly, meeting her pleading eyes.

"Your child won't ever be one of us. She'll never be accepted," he said coldly. "She'll be just like them. And when your husband wipes us out, and you two are the only ones left, he'll clip your wings without a single hesitation." Her jaw clenched.

"You don't know me or my family," she snapped at him. "You don't know anything." Tears were already falling down her face, warm angry tears, as he put his hand on the doorknob. But he paused. The silence was the worst part – the silence before he said what she knew he'd been wanting to say this entire time.

"You couldn't just wait, could you?" Devlon asked hoarsely. "I came back a week after you disappeared and then they told me…they told me he took you. And all I could think about is how you couldn't even wait another week. Seven days. If I had just came back seven days earlier, you wouldn't have left. You would've been with me, a _war lord_. But of course, I guess that's nothing compared to him." The tears were dripping all over her.

"I waited for six months, Devlon. Don't blame me."

"I promised you I would come back and get you," Devlon replied, opening the front door for the last time. "And I did. I tried."

~*~ discidium ~*~  
"Are you-are you burning that?" Leon's voice rang. Clearly, he had been looking for her thoroughly, saying as she was hiding in an unused room. "That's-that's a horribly expensive dress, Selene! It has diamonds on it. Very high class diamonds." And to be fair, she had been trying to burn it for a good long time before Leon bursted in. The cloth was tucked between two burning logs in the bedroom fireplace as she poked and prodded.

"As you can see, diamonds don't burn," she muttered emotionlessly. To prove her point, she prodded one of the diamonds painfully and nothing happened. She could still see the sparkles visibly.

"I'm glad you're learning new things," Leon said carefully, "but…why aren't you downstairs?" She rose her eyebrows at him as she put the poker down.

"Why weren't you downstairs?" She demanded suddenly. He flinched back. "I thought you were on my side!"

"Your side? Selene, I had a meeting with the heir of the Autumn Court. I couldn't exactly skip out on it over a _ball_ ," Leon said defensively. And then he added in a soft voice, "What happened?" And maybe that's when she fell apart, or when the emotions had finally overflown inside her, because just by asking the question, tears began to fall down her face. And not just a few – large, ugly tears as she sobbed and sobbed.

He kneeled down next to her, sitting beside her in front of the burning fire.

"What happened?" He asked softly. "Selene, what happened?" She looked up at him, meeting his concerned eyes.

"Clythia…Clythia made it known to the entire ballroom that I am inferior because of my race," she choked. "And Tobias…he didn't even twitch. He just banished me from the ball as soon as I started to object." Leon's eyebrows furrowed down.

"He didn't care?" Leon whispered. She shrugged tiredly.

"He didn't say a word to her," she whispered. Leon didn't argue but he held her gaze.

"I don't care what race you are, you are not inferior," Leon said with a growl. "And Clythia wouldn't bother exclaiming it unless she was intimidated." Selene let out a shaky breath.

"It doesn't matter. She'll always be here. He cares about that damn mountain more."

"More than he loves you?" Leon asked. She had never thought about it like that. Was the mountain more important than their own marriage? Though tears were falling down her face, her eyes went up to him.

"I-"

"You're back." The words came off sharper than a knife. Both Leon and Selene looked up jerkily. Slowly, Leon got up on his feet.

"Tobias-" He was leaning against the doorway casually, with his tie undone and a tired look on his face. He looked exhausted – too exhausted to get mad or angry.

"I thought you were going to be there for a few more days," Tobias said, eyeing Leon carefully. Leon froze.

"It didn't take long for him to obey my word," Leon said, his voice distant as he eyed Selene. She was still sitting in front of the fire, her knees to her chest.

"I want a report on what happened with the heir. Every single word written and signed," Tobias instructed. " _Now_." Something shifted on Leon's face when he said that. Not anger, not sadness, but something she couldn't place. Tobias didn't have a stinging glare on his face as he watched Leon go past him, but yet watched him closely as if trying to get every detail of his body. As Leon disappeared, Tobias's head whipped towards her immediately. His eyes were round.

"Did Leon-"

"I don't want to talk to you," she hissed. His lips pressed together firmly.

"We've gone through this before, Selene," he said, in the same exact tone. "You knew what you were getting into when you mar-"

"That I would be called inferior in front of tens of people?" She said, jumping to her feet now. Tobias blinked at her. "That I would be ridiculed and talked down to by a sociopathic maniac?" Tobias shook his head.

"You don't understand," he said coolly. Selene shook her head.

"I don't. I don't understand why your people see me as inferior. I don't understand why having wings and being able to fight makes us weak. I don't understand why you let some bitch walk into your home and ridicule your wife-"

"Oh, she wasn't ridiculing you!" Tobias snapped. "She was ridiculing your friend." Selene's mouth dropped.

" _Devlon?_ " Selene repeated. "Her words applied to more than just him, Tobias." Tobias scuffed at this.

"What?" Selene went on. "Go on, tell me, Tobias. Tell me how he asked for it, how you couldn't help it. How you had no choice but let it go on. How I was the wrong for-"

"You humiliated me," Tobias interrupted coolly. His voice was low and sharp. Selene flinched back. "You humiliated me when you were flirting and flaunting him in front of everybody that mattered. You looked at him like-"

"Like what?" Selene yelled. " _Like what_?" Tobias's nose was flared.

"Like the sun shined out of his Illyrian ass!" Tobias finished. "You guys weren't friends, Selene, and he didn't dislike me simply because he researched my project. You loved each other, didn't you? A fucking war band leader, of all things. And everybody saw it." She was quiet for a moment, fixated on the glistening in his eyes.

"You would, wouldn't you?" She asked quietly. "You would love to see his wings pinned up above your bed. You would absolutely love it." There was an unusual pause as the words hung in air, too harsh to take back as she looked for the answer in his cold, still face. The longer the pause lengthened, the more she realized that she always wondered what his true feelings of Illyrians were, and how there was suddenly a weight lifted off her chest when she asked the one question that could answer all of her fears. But he was looking at her with same exact look – with both horror and pain. With the anticipation of what would happen next, digesting the words that could never be taken back.

"I am not a monster, Selene," he said, his voice small. And there was so much pain in his voice – deep, ingrained pain that it made a hole burn in the base of Selene's stomach. "Despite your belief, I am not a monster."

"I know," she said, just as soft. "But I can't let someone ridicule me and my child. I can't have someone constantly in my household who has the power to make me feel small." His lips pursed for a moment.

"You want her gone?" He asked. "Is that what you want? Is that what will stop this mess?" Though it took her a moment to admit it, she nodded.

"I do," she said. He nodded sharply.

"Fine, I will. Because I don't want this to ruin us," he said stiffly. "I will stop it." He whipped around, about to leave the doorway, but he stopped.

"Also, I wanted you to know before anybody else got the news," Tobias voice trailed for a moment. "The pilot program was a failure. One of the directors of the program wrote me yesterday that I need to cut ties, and so I did. Devlon will probably get a letter within the next three days." Selene's face tightened.

"Where? Where will he go then?" She demanded. "Tell me." Tobias turned around to face her again, his face just as tight and a blaze of anger flickering in his eyes.

"Where he was before. A war band leader training warriors. I have multiple reports that he was unusually successful at it so I promoted him to the lead war band leader, rather than second in command. It was the best I could do," Tobias told her. When he registered the broken look on her face, the tears beginning to form again, he said coldly, "He will be fine." But as he walked away, leaving the fire light and into the dark hall, she couldn't help but recall what happened yesterday. He was there with her nearly all day, riding and holding meetings from dawn to dusk. She couldn't comprehend when he would have possibly gotten a letter and if so, if he even would've cared enough to read it.

~*~ disicidium ~*~*

Give me reeevvviiiieeeeewwwws


	13. Chapter 13

The worst thing about the Night Court was when it was silent. Purely, plainly, silent. Nobody liked it – not Selene, not Tobias, nor Leon or Rosalie. Usually, if the period of silence was too long, it meant something bad was about to happen. And now, a month after the ball, and a month after they broke the news to Clythia that the Night Court was withdrawing their position, Selene was quietly fearful. Especially when she woke up to an empty bed. She looked side to side, realizing that she was completely alone. But she could still hear someone at a distance – outside of the room, farther down the hall. So she got up slowly, putting on her bathrobe, and walked down the hallway quietly.

The noise got louder until she realized that it was coming from her old room. She stopped at the cracked down and opened it slowly.

"What is this?" Her whole room was an entire mess. There were at least nine to ten suitcases lying about, with clothes strewn and items that were definitely not in the room prior, stuffed in open suitcases. It looked like half of the house had exploded in her room. Why it was always her room? She didn't know. But she did know that Tobias was trying viciously to close a suitcase that was too full to close.

"I got a letter from Clythia," Tobias said. Selene could feel a wave of heat run down her body and she tugged the bath robe tighter around her.

"And?" She said, this time softer. "What did it say?" Tobias shrugged.

"She actually seemed pretty okay with our parting," Tobias said. "Apparently, she has greater plans that are more important. She apologized for coming off abrasive. And…and she congratulated you with your pregnancy." Selene felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her lips pursed and she told herself to hold it together, to take slow breaths.

"How?" Selene asked. "How did she know?" He then looked at her, his dark eyes meeting hers as he thrusted his hands against the semi-open suitcase.

"We're royals, Selene. It could've been anyone. It could've been the servant who noticed that your dresses were made to be looser, it could be the cook who is now forced to accustom to your nasty diet, it could have been anyone that you told…" And she knew who he was implying.

"He wouldn't have told anyone," Selene growled. "Devlon wouldn't betray my trust." He scoffed.

"The point is, don't take it personally. She is a powerful woman, and anyone could have told her. Plus, they'll all know sooner or later. It's not like you can hold our daughter in forever." She was quiet for a moment, tearing away from his gaze. Because frankly, she liked it being a secret. It was something that was theirs. Something nobody could turn into a political issue or a weapon.

"Then what is all of this?" She asked dryly, pursing her lips. She was motioning to the mess in the room. "What is this disaster?" He was quiet for a moment and his eyes fixated on the suitcase more intensely. Her eyebrows knitted down.

"Velaris. You are going to Velaris." The words made Selene's mouth drop. Her posture broke and she walked into the room hurriedly.

"Why? We just came back!" Her shrill didn't seem to do a single thing to him. If anything, it only made him pound on the suitcase harder.

"I thought you loved Velaris." In a way, she did. She loved the beautiful stars, the joyful people, the sky line and the colorful markets. But she felt suffocated there – like she was stuck in a box. Every moment she was in Velaris, all she wondered about was when she was going to leave. It created a paranoia that she couldn't quite place. It wasn't something she wanted to go back to anytime soon.

"I do," Selene said easily. "But the Hewn Theater is supposed to play at our estate tomorrow and I want to see it." He closed his eyes impatiently, exhaling.

"This is about a…theater?" She crossed her arms stubbornly.

"This is about the fact that we can't have one moment of peace without you shipping me off to Velaris. I have plans here, Tobias. If you want me to leave you alone, if you need time, you can have it. But you aren't considering my side. I was really looking forward to this theater and you don't even care."

His eyes landed on her like a hawk. "Fine. I am very, very, very sorry that you have to miss your theater, Selene. I am truthfully, woefully, _sorry_." She reflected the same look at him.

"That is the most artificial apology I have ever-"

"We'll bring Rosalie," he said quickly, and his voice seemed desperate now. "We'll bring Rosalie to Velaris. She loves it – and, if you agree to this, we'll stop to a popular theater half way between Velaris and here. Far better than the Hewn Theater. My mother used to go to it annually." Her eyebrows knitted down as she blinked stupidly.

"Why are you so…" She was going to use the word desperate, but that seemed like a bad decision. "…keen on me going to Velaris?" He didn't look at her now. Instead, his eyes lingered at the luggage case below him. He had stopped trying to close it and instead put his hands on it tiredly.

"Selene…" And he said it so feebly, so painfully, that it sounded like a dagger had just been plunged into his chest. "Please." She took a step towards him, looking at the bags again. He had packed enough bags that it could last months – maybe even years. Enough to keep her there indefinitely. It probably contained items she had never ever worn.

"I would tell you," she said. "If something was going on, I would tell you. And not because I have to – because I'm married to you. Because I love you and I trust you and I will always be on your side. Let me help you." And his eyes held onto hers. For a moment, he looked so young. Vulnerability flickered, desperation filled his face.

"It's been kept inside me so long that I don't know where to start," he breathed. "It's too much to explain and I _am_ sorry. I am sorry that I'm now springing it on you, forcing you to bear the consequences. This is a problem that has started before you were even relevant and I should have fixed it then, instead of now. I should've solved it then." She shook her head slowly.

"Tobias, you wouldn't be telling me this unless you felt like it was too heavy to bear alone," she told him. "So let me carry some of the weight. Let me help you." He shook his head. For a moment, it seemed like tears were forming in his eyes.

"You won't believe me," he said. " _I_ wouldn't believe me. It'll sound crazy."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" She asked back. "You're my mate. I'll believe you no matter what it is – even if it was something entirely impossible. Because if I didn't, it would mean that I'm not picking you. And I'll pick you, no matter the consequences. Every single day until the day I die."

"You promise you'll pick me?" He said feebly. "You love me enough to…pick me? Believe me? No matter what?" His voice had cracked.

"Of course," she whispered. "Of course, I'll pick you. Against anything." He was quiet for a moment, biting the inside of his lip nervously. He looked like he was reaching his point of patience – like he was burning out slowly and he was about to burst. He looked so tired, so young, so lonely. His eyes were glittering when he looked at her.

"Darkness lurks in the castle, Selene. I know you've felt it, I know you're in knowledge of it," he said emptily. "But you don't…you don't know much about why, do you? You don't know why your instincts are constantly telling you to run when you enter certain rooms? Or to fight when you hear certain sounds? Or that every day you survive in this castle, you get a little stronger? You never questioned it?" Her eyebrows furrowed down. She hadn't ever asked herself _why_. She always assumed that it was just something apart of the Night Court, but she didn't wonder where the source came from or why it was like that.

"Ghosts?" She guessed. But as soon as she said it aloud, she regretted it. It was a stupid assumption, childish even.

"No," he breathed. "This darkness is very much alive. This darkness has a heartbeat louder than both of ourselves put together. I thought I could control it, but it's too dangerous to stay here anymore." This time, she didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to reply. Instead her head tilted, confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"You remember when I said family was rela-"

"Are we leaving?" The voice made her jump. Though Tobias didn't jump like her, he was clearly startled. When Selene turned around, relief filled her body. It was only Leon and Rosalie. Both of their eyes were scrolling the room, confused.

"Selene and I are going on a little trip," Tobias responded stiffly. Selene turned to look at him. He got up slowly, growing close to her. Leon's face broke.

"Where?" He asked. Selene smiled.

"A theater between here and Velaris. And then afterword, we're going to stay in Velaris for a bit." She looked at Tobias but his face was hard. His hand had gone around her stiffly and he was looking at Leon and Rosalie without a hint of emotion in his eyes.

"Rosalie, you're coming with us," He said, as if he was expecting her to object. "And Leon…" His voice stopped for a moment. It broke. "I need you in the Autumn Court." Leon's face dropped.

"Autumn Court? I finished business there," Leon said. Tobias shook his head slowly.

"They still aren't listening. I need you to be an ambassador there. I don't trust anyone else the job," Tobias said. "It probably won't take more than a mon-"

"My leg is killing me," Leon interjected. "I just got back from the Autumn Court. The entire time, I just spend the entire time walking around or else the heir will sneer at me. I can't do that for a month when my leg is this bad." Selene didn't respond to him. It was rare that he talked about his leg – even rarer to complain about it. Tobias was quiet for a moment.

"Fine…" Leon breathed. "I'll do it. But only on one condition – I come with you to the theater. There, they have hot springs. It helps the leg." At first Tobias didn't say anything, but then he nodded.

"Pack lightly," he commanded. "We leave in an hour."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"This wasn't what I was expecting." For some odd reason, she was expecting nothing. She was expecting to find a small camp that were common check points for nomads to hit. She didn't expect a village squeezed tightly between two mountains. Personally, she didn't understand how _this_ was the halfway point between Velaris. If anything, it felt colder. Tobias told her that because the weather was so rough, they would have to get closer to Velaris by foot in order to winnow there. The village was alike to the other village Tobias had brought her to, but this one seemed more Illyrians based. Cobble-stone paths, scattered vendors. But everybody was in Illyrian-style clothes and filled with tattoos that spoke the ancient language of her people. Everything had a gold-red glow from the dark torches that hung around the street, unlike the delicate lanterns. Everything was made out of dark, polished wood, rather than the stone material prior. At a distance, she could see a mass amount of tents that were probably the common people's homes, but the town part had long, lengthy towers that looked over all of it. It was more than just a few stories – the crooked, tall buildings were large enough that she could see miles and miles out from outside from town when she was at the highest level and even overlooked other villages at a distance.

"The theater doesn't start for another three hours," Tobias said. "We don't have to go there early. I made sure we reserved seats." Her eyes were lingering outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"I am so excited," Rosalie had interrupted. She was sitting in the leather chair overlooking the large town next to her. All of them were lingering in the master's room, at awe at the beautiful windows. Selene wanted all of them to see it – it was a daring sight. "I went to them once and they were absolutely phenomenal. Leon, remember when we got invited to a party with them?" Leon smirked.

"Barely," Leon said, snickering. "Saying as I don't remember it, I'm sure it was great." Rosalie giggled. They kept on with their conversation and slowly, Selene drifted away from them. None of them noticed as she met Tobias on the opposite side of the room. Between Rosalie's loud voice, and the cackling of the multiple fireplaces, nobody would be able to hear them. He was sitting in a recliner tiredly, a drink in his hand.

"That looks strong," Selene said, her eyebrows rising. "Since when did you drink after long rides?" Despite constantly being around alcohol, Tobias didn't normally drink unless he had a specific reason. He didn't look at her, just took another sip of his drink.

"You know, there's more than just a theater here," he said, looking up. His eyebrows had perked up briefly. "There's shops and orchestras and – you wanna know what, Selene? How the hell does this place even exist? I mean, Velaris makes sense. But this place? I don't even bother to stimulate their economy, yet this crap town has survived for eons. My mother would drag us here at least twice a year." Her eyebrows perked up as well.

"Are you okay?" She asked. He shook his head.

"No," he said. "Because I cried. The last time I came here with Leon and Rosalie, we went to an orchestra and I cried like a baby in front of tens of people. It was like the music consumed me and suddenly, I had just…I felt human again. I was reborn." She listened carefully.

"I want to take you to one," Tobias said. "After all of this over. After I can finally sit down and tell you what's going on. When you're still pregnant, so I can shove a frumpy dress over your head as you waddle to your seat, I want to take both of you. I want to take you to an orchestra, and I want you to cry with me in front of tens of people and I want you to know the feeling of feeling human." She smiled.

"We can do that. I would-" And then the whole place trembled. In the corner of her eye, a color flashed. Tobias rushed to his feet, catching Selene's arm so that she didn't fall. Rosalie was out of the chair and Leon was hovering over the window. He turned to Tobias, his face stricken.

"There was a…there was a…" Selene was next to him and her hand went to her mouth.

"Oh my cauldron…" One of the villages at a distance was on fire. "The village is in flames." Tobias was staring outside the window, his eyes looking a million miles away.

"No," he argued. "It was a bomb." And then suddenly, they heard a woosh and a building in their area bursted. Fire blazed over half of the building. Though it was far away, Tobias pulled Selene closer. Leon stumbled back, his eyes wide.

"The building is on fire," he breathed. He shot his head towards Tobias. "Stay here. You can't leave – we can't risk the High Lord getting hurt. I'll help them." Tobias didn't argue. Instead, his eyes lingered. As Leon began to move, another tremble went through the building. Selene took in a ragged breath, looking out to a different direction. Another village had been bombed. The flames were blazing fast.

"Who the hell is doing this?" Selene demanded. "Who the hell would ever-"

"Rebels," Leon answered. He was still lingering in the room. "Only rebels would bomb relentlessly." She looked at Tobias sharply, but he didn't look like he was ready to talk. Instead, his eyes looked at each detail of the vicious scene. From their view, it looked like a painting. If only they couldn't hear the screaming at a distance, and not slowly smell the faint smoke from where they stood, she would almost say it was beautiful.

"Go," Tobias said to him. "Don't-" But then something new stopped Tobias from speaking – voices. Not screams, voices. Voices seemed to grow louder around them. Sharp, demanding voices. Though their building hung over the sidewalk and prevented them from seeing, she could hear the rhtyhms of feet circling their building. Tobias's eyes widened. She had never seen him look so urgent, so vital.

"Go!" He yelled at Leon. Leon hesitated. "If you want to protect us, go now!" Leon flinched. He turned back towards the door, opening and closing it with a bang. Immediately, Tobias locked it. She could see, just barely with his magic, a whisp of black light glisten around the doors. He was sealing it.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. "What if Leon needs our help?" He shook his head.

"It's just a few men. He can fight through-" And then a harsher light bursted. Selene tumbled back, shielding her eyes. When she looked outside the window, her voice shivered. Initially, there were probably eight different villages that they could see. Now, at least half were burning.

"They're burning all of them," she whispered. She felt like she was going to be sick. Somewhere close to them, she heard a thud. But she was too stuck on the horrifying scene in front of them. "All of those beautiful villages. All of those people." She then whipped her head towards Tobias.

"You're a high lord," she said. "You can fix this. You can kill all of the rebels with a blink of an eye." He shook his head. His jaw was clenched.

"I could," he agreed emotionlessly, "But we'll be fine. They'll give up soon." She staggered.

"Everything is going up in _flames_ ," Selene said louder. "Leon can't do this by himself. He can't be a one-man army. You have to-you have to help him!"

No," he said firmly. "I won't."

"They're killing entire villages," Selene whispered. " _Entire_ villages, Tobias." But he didn't even look at her. His eyes were fixated at the bedroom door. Selene's fingers were shaking. She had been through this once, ages ago. Another war band had raided her village but nobody hid. The Illyrians in training who were occupying her village fought for them. They didn't even hesitate. Yet, her own husband was just staring at the front door emotionlessly.

"Tobias, there are rebels probably storming into this building. The nearby villages are burning in flames. You can't just sit there and-"

"I can do whatever I please," Tobias snarled at her. The harshness of his reply stung her. "I am the High Lord of Night. I don't have to do anything." Her mouth dropped. She glanced at Rosalie, who was sitting in the corner quietly. Quiet as a mouse. She wasn't making eye contact with either of them.

"What about them?" She shrilled, motioning to the burning villages at a distance. "They don't deserve a say?" Tobias's jaw clenched. It looked like a million things were running in his head. She took a step towards the door. Anger was blazing through her as she eyed Tobias, the supposedly most powerful man in the world.

"They're commoners," Tobias replied coldly.

"Your brother is down there, dying for you," she hissed. His nose flared, but he still didn't meet her eyes.

"And that's his duty to his court," Tobias replied slowly. "He made his decisions. Now we have to wait." She blinked at him twice before she even opened her mouth.

"H- _He has one bloody leg_! What are you talking about duty and making his own decisions? He can't even stand up straight!" But he wasn't listening. He was barely paying attention to her. Instead, he was thinking something in his calculating mind. Something was going on in his mind, and it was fierce. But she wouldn't sit around a wait for his response. Maybe he could watch dozens of people die in front of him, but Selene couldn't. She let out a long exhale.

"Let me go find Leon. I'm small. They won't-"

"No! You're to stay here until I say otherwise."  
"You can't tell me-"

"You'll do it or I'll lock you up in the highest tower for weeks." The only exhale that Selene heard was Rosalie's. Neither Tobias nor Selene even took a breath. He was looking at her deathly - his body had gone whiter and his eyes were blazing. She couldn't recall a time that he had looked at her so coldly, so inhuman. It was like she was finally facing the devil, and she had to make a choice. A choice to obey, to trust. A choice that picks love, that picks peace between themselves. The choice that he wanted and the choice that means she would have to swallow everything she was. On whether she would shake hands with the devil or she would walk past him, welcoming his wrath.

"Try me," she said slowly. "Fucking try me, Tobias." And maybe that's when everything stopped - when they both realized that both of them were serious. That he would lock her up, and she would find a way to blow his estate to the ground without a hint of guilt. That they were equally unbinding, just opposite sides of the same coin.

"Wait!" Rosalie's voice broke. "Wait, Tobias…She doesn't mean it." And there was true fear trembling in her voice as she finally left her corner. There was something unusual about Rosalie's manner that Selene couldn't depict. As if memories were flashing beyond her eyes as she went between Selene and Tobias. Enduring a fear that Selene was yet to comprehend.

"Oh no, I mean it," Selene corrected her. Her wings had fully flung out. "I am not joking, I am not kidding around. I refuse to be silenced by my own husband." Rosalie didn't even look at her. Her hands were up pleadingly towards Tobias.

"She doesn't understand," Rosalie told him. "She's pregnant." And for just a second, it seemed like Tobias didn't care. The word didn't do anything to him - the cold look didn't break, his body didn't show any hesitation.

"She's right. I don't understand. I am yet to understand why you don't go fix this when you can by a blink of an eye!" Her voice rose. "People are dying. Your own brother could be dying right now. I don't understand why you won't go down there." Rosalie's head dipped down for a second. Her hands clenched together.

"Because he can't! Because they're rebels and he doesn't want his court seeing them as martyrs. Because they have no intention on killing him, but the unborn child of the High Lord? They'll kill an unborn child. They'll kill you. He's right, Selene, you're better off here." There was silence for a moment. And not just empty silence, it was still silence. Heavy, unyielding silence. But then her eyes rose to him, colder than she had ever mustered in her life. His eyes had stopped being so cold, and instead watched her closely. Detailing every muscle on her face, every inch of her body.

"Why didn't you just tell me-" But then his hand swung out in the air, colliding against Rosalie's cheek. Rosalie fell to the ground, gasping tightly as she tumbled against the hard wood floor. It happened so fast that Selene hadn't even comprehended it at first - she was frozen on the spot. A distant voice in her head was telling her to move, to reach for her, but her body didn't follow the voice's words. Instead, she stood up straighter, facing her husband once again.

"Is that true?" Selene decided quickly that she would hang onto Rosalie's words instead of responding to his ruthlessness. After all, that's what he wanted. He wanted her to dive to the ground, reaching for Rosalie, to wipe her mind away from the problem. He was that desperate to keep her in the room. So very desperate - so very cold and ruthless and desperate. She glanced at her quickly, double checking that Rosalie hadn't been seriously injured. Rosalie was seething as she sat up slowly.

"There is so much, so much, that you don't understand," he emphasized. "Those commoners are going to die anyways. _They will die no matter what_. You are the only one who matters. The only one who is in danger. Fuck me, fuck Leon, fuck everybody else. You are the revenge they want. And I am begging you – begging you now that you remain here. Fight everything you are, Selene. I know who you are. But I'm asking you to choose to be someone different right now." And she forced herself to breathe.

"I hid who I was for eighteen years and now, now of all times, you want me to hide again?" Selene said. "I-" And then the door busted open. Somehow, someway, Tobias spun his back to face her. His actions were done to protect her, but whatever opened those doors flung him into the air. She fell to the ground, tumbling. The force that busted through could have killed her – it was fiercer than a tornado. But, by sheer luck, or maybe just instinct, she formed herself into a ball and shielded herself from the impact. She allowed her wings to go around her tightly, making a tight cocoon on the floor. As the dust flung around and the air consisted of the remaining bits of the room, she remained inside of her wings. Carefully, the seconds feeling like minutes as time passed, she looked past the cloud of suffocating smoke. What seemed like far away, she saw a body on the ground. But then she heard the shuffling of feet rushing in, more than just a few. Light blared into the room suddenly, torches of fire reflecting through the thick air.

"Is he dead?" A voice demanded. She held her breath.

"Knocked out," another voice muttered as she felt a body lean closer to the ground. "We are lucky. If he was awake, we would be-"

"It would be a lot worse if he was dead," another voice intercepted. The voice was flatter, more mature. Not necessarily due to age, but by knowledge. Power. Nobody argued with him – instead they used the silence to move around swiftly.

"I found the whore. She's breathing as well," the first voice said. "Let her alone. She's not our bait. Can anyone…" the man coughed. "…can anyone find the Lady of the Night Court?"

"Yes, I did." At first she was confused, looking around like a bat coming out of its wings, but then her heart stopped. She felt a yank at her wings. Immediately, she flapped them, causing the person who had grabbed her to fall to the ground. She rose to her feet slowly.

"You dare touch me, the lady of-" But then she felt multiple hands on her, yanking at her, pulling her at all directions. The smoke began to clear and she saw them – many men dressed in green, sharp uniforms with silk wraps covering their heads and masks hiding their faces aside from their eyes. They all had weapons – maces, swords, daggers, arrows. And while she didn't see the smiles on their faces, she saw the joy in their eyes.

"Who are you?" She demanded hoarsely. One of them clucked their tongues. She realized quickly, as the rest of them were silent, that this must've been their leader.

"I'm glad you're awake," the man said, taking precise steps towards him. "I'm glad you're going to be able to see this." She didn't even blink.

"Rebels?" She guessed. "Surely, only men that desperate would burn down entire villages." At first the man's face relaxed, staring at her blankly, and then he bursted out into laughter.

"You think we're your rebels?" He said, and the men around him began to laugh as well. "No, sweetheart. We come from Hybern. General Clythia's people who have come to avenge her. You're dealing with an entirely different level." Though her mouth had already dried up because of the dust, she felt like she was going to choke on air. _Clythia's crew_? Tobias was so sure that it had been the rebels. He was so positive that Clythia wanted nothing from him. Clearly, he had been wrong.

"She's insane," Selene said, speaking to herself aloud. "I knew she was insane, and he never believed me." She heard a woosh and suddenly someone's hand collided with her cheek. The roughness of this hit made her whip back, nearly breaking from the other men's grasp. She inhaled sharply, feeling as if the air had been ripped away from her. Half of her face stung horribly.

"She's our savior," the man said, putting his lips to her ear. "And after you're gone, he'll run to her for comfort. She will have everything. She will have her mountain, she will have the Illyrians, and she will have your husband." She let out a mirthless chuckle.

"So you're going to kill me, are you? For your savior?" She asked. She didn't know where her bravery was coming from, but clearly she had it. "That's what she sent you to do?"

"No," he said. "She sent me to get your wings. To carve them out individually. And then I'm supposed to leave you to die." She felt like all the blood in her body had left. This was worse than Hunter – at least then, she knew her handler. At least then, she understood why Hunter was doing it. Despite his cruelty, Hunter felt like he was taking wings for moral reasons. These people were just doing it for revenge.

"My wings are…" She was going to say _everything_. But it wasn't everything anymore, was it? It wasn't anything compared to her friends, or her husband, or her unborn child. She loved her wings, and she would die for her wings, but they weren't everything anymore. She had so much more to live for, so much more to long for. "You don't know my husband. He is worse than Clythia. He won't kill you or take your body parts or erase your identity. He knows there's something worse than death. He'll torture your families, your lovers, your animals. He'll burn your cities to the ground, and purposely spread excruciating diseases across your villages like wildfire. He'll kill every leader in Hybern, including your beloved general sisters, and let you live in anarchy for however long it takes before he conquers the nation for himself." At first nobody responded. She didn't look at all of the men – only the man in front of her. She held his hazel eyes tightly.

"You think you're messing with a man," she added, a small laugh to her voice. "But he is no man. He is a combination of darkness and power and greed. He is the High Lord of _Night_. And the night is not merciful." The man went nose to nose with her.

"I look forward to it," he said, his voice crisp. "Take off her wings!" She tried tucking them in, but two men grabbed them. It was horrible pain – pulling the two wings open, like they were ripping her leg open. Though there was no damage to her wings yet, it was unbearable. She screamed, she screamed a horrible noise that rang out in a pitch that was painful for anybody's ears. At a distance, she heard glass breaking. Several hands had let go of her jerkily, but not enough to break her free. And it was like she was speaking to the skies in a language nobody else could understand– demanding for the moon to listen to her one last time.

"Take them off!" A man yelled. "Take off her wings, now!" In the darkness, she saw a flicker of silver rise into the air. It was still musty, still clogged with debris. But she saw it lift into the air like she had seen it happen so many months ago. Who knew it would end now and not in the village she once was. She always assumed that if her wings were taken away, it would be because she was an unwanted woman in a cruel village. Now, she was the wife of one of most powerful men alive, and simply being maimed because she was too influential in the world. Too important.

But then she heard the door open again. The men, though still holding onto her, flinched. The silver that was hovering above her lingered away. The new men who rushed into the door were different – they wore purple uniforms, not green. Older, lesser quality. But something was different about them. Especially at the man in the front. His weapon was out, and there was something powerful about the way he stood. You could just _tell_.

"No," the person said. "You will not touch the Lady Selene of Night." _Lady Selene of Night_. Not the Lady of the Night Court. The individual tore through the fighter in front of her, nearly slicing him in half. Instantly, the many hands let her go, making her fall to the ground. But then more gentle hands caught her, getting her back on her feet. But her eyes were elsewhere, watching as each man of Clythia's were sliced in half. Some tried running but they didn't make it more than a foot. Before she knew it, only seconds later, she was surrounded by dead bodies and a group of men dressed in old, purple clothing.

"Are…are you okay?" The voice came from the man in front of her. She blinked several times. The world was spinning, and it took every inch of her to focus.

"Who the hell are you?" She finally said. This time, the man's face hardened.

"We are revolutionists," he replied. "We heard you visited our colony, and we heard your cries." Her eyebrows furrowed down.

"I'm…I'm confused," she breathed. "You knew I was the Lady of the Night Court all along? And what do you mean, you heard my cries? _How in earth could you have heard them_?" And then he gave her a soft smile.

"We may live underground, but our people are everywhere," he said gently. "We are always listening, and our leader favors you. She says you have a strong heart." Her hands were shaking. She didn't even know what to say anymore.

"Revolutionists…" She said again. Her eyes flickered to Tobias. "You can't hurt him. He's my husband." He looked over to him, eyeing Tobias.

"We are honorable people," he said quietly. "We will not harm him. We do not wish to harm him. We simply wish for a new reign." She didn't understand the difference. Certainly, it meant the same thing. But then the man held out his hand. In it, he was holding a purple ribbon.

"We'll be contacting you," he said, giving it to her. "We have already called healers who are on their way. You are safe, Lady Selene of Night. And we look forward to speaking to you soon."

Can I get some reviews please? Like I probably get up to a thousand views and I LOVE THE REVIEWS I GET but I have faith that people that normally don't post a review can give me a review for this chapter. Its what I live for.


	14. Chapter 14

The people disappeared in front of her. She felt her body falling, the floor beneath her no longer existent. She watched limply as the black smoke consumed her, letting in the darkness. And then she was gone.

 _Her body was gone. And all was left was a man. A man huddling in front of her, under a badly-pined up roof she couldn't recognize. He was beautiful, if only he didn't have the scars and gashes and torture written all over his body. His skin was so red that it was unnerving, as if he had spent weeks in the blithering heat. His body, with wide shoulders, and long limbs, were gaunt and lifeless. He had heavy chains stuck to his wrists, with red and purple rings that underlapped the chains. There were parts of his legs that looked like were slowly skinned off, a cruelty that Selene had never imagined. She couldn't help but stare at his genitalia, where everything was intact but there were still thin cuts and light bruises. His dark hair laid limply over his forehead, overshadowing his purple-black eyes. But even past the dark, dirty hair, she saw the shining. His head was up, starring around quietly. There was hope – even just a little bit, on his face as he digested the shack he was in. Light, unfamiliar light she had never seen, shone through a large hole in the corner. Not large enough to be a window, but large enough to see the outside. Large enough to see what was he missing._

 _Was it a vision? Or was it a dream? She couldn't tell. She was used to dreams such as these, seeing horrible scenes of various people she had never met, but not like this. This was different. This felt real._

 _But her body was still gone. She had nothing to see of herself anyways. Instead, all she could see was the chained man. He was no doubt a prisoner of some sort. Stripped of any clothing, breathing raggedly as if he was trying to catch his breath. And as the scene became clearer and clear, she noticed he had wings. He was an Illyrian, and he was a solider. No – he had to be more than a soldier. Even an Illyrian soldier didn't have the will to stay alive to the extent that he had. He was something far greater. Like a fallen angel._

 _There were a loud boom. A scream – no, multiple screams._ _The man - the beautiful man, had stopped breathing raggedly. For the first time within the entire vision, he looked afraid. Sweat was pouring down his face. His face twitched. He tried moving to the door,as if he had forgotten that he was chained up, but he was pulled back harshly. Clearly, there was an amount of magic involved._

 _The door opened with a bang. Not just a bang – the door flew six feet before hitting the ground. At first, Selene didn't recognize the man in the doorway. He was wearing pitch black armor, his hair long and pulled back tightly. But then she realized who he was. It was Tobias, her own husband. But he looked different – possibly older, though he was immortal. He also looked furious – angry, livid, as if he could kill a thousand men. And maybe he had, but he was clean. Not a single drop of blood on him. There were a number of men following him, wearing the same dark armor._

 _The Illyrian was quiet as the man walked in. Quiet as a mouse. His eyes were wide, and he opened his mouth but quickly closed it. There was more than shock on his face – initially relief, but dread filled his face. Like he wasn't entirely sure if it was a good thing that the High Lord of Night had barged in. His body, larger than Tobias's, grew smaller. But Tobias crouched down in front of him, his eyes filled with rage. His jaw was clenched, his eyes murderous as it nailed down on the prisoner._

 _"Look at me," Tobias demanded, his voice low. "Don't you fucking look away from me." It was chilling, even for Selene. The prisoner had initially fixated on something else – nothing more but the intent on not meeting Tobias's eye. But the prisoner forced himself to look at him, to look at the most powerful man on the planet. He was clearly unhappy about it. But he held onto his eyes just as tightly, reflecting back the bottled up anger that the prisoner held inside of him. But his anger looked deeper than just his capture, as if he knew Tobias personally._

 _And then the Illyrian smirked. It looked forced, not without a specific purpose._

" _Did she finally-" Tobias slapped him. He slapped him so hard that the Illyrian had grunted. The Illyrian seethed, pain flickering across his face. But it wasn't a physical pain - it was something else. Something far greater. For a moment, a flash of anger flickered on his face, but when he met eyes with Tobias, his face softened. The Illyrian breathed in sharply._

" _She cried for weeks," Tobias hissed after a moment of ticking silence. "She kept asking me 'Tobias, why the hell is he still over there? Why have you done?' Until she realized that this whole damn thing was_ _your_ _fault. She's embarrassed by the cowardice you have shone on her line…and so am I. She has no reason not to disown you." His eyes widened. His sparkly, violet eyes._

" _She's at the estate?" He choked. "Did you lock her up?" His words were meant to come out harsher, but he let them out feebly. Broken, like a shattered porcelain doll._

" _She chose to come back," Tobias said slowly. "She realized where home really was. With me. She ran straight into my arms." The Illyrian looked like he was going to puke. If he wasn't broken before, he sure was now._

" _What about my friends? Ca-The soldier? The spymaster? Have you seen them?" Tobias rose up, rolling his eyes dramatically. For a moment, she didn't think he'd reply. But his voice was filled with so much vain that it was stupid to think otherwise._

" _Cauldron if I know," Tobias snarled. "I had used half of my resources to find_ _you_ _." Tobias had tore from his gaze but Illyrian shook his head fast._

" _Let me look for them. Give me a small amount of men. You won't regr-"_

" _I'll do no such thing!" Tobias yelled, his body tightening into a straight line as he looked down at the Illyrian. "You have lost all my trust. I gave you one chance, and you blew it. Most likely because your stupid mother insisted on hanging out with those runts your entire childhood. I told her they were bad news, yet she insisted that_ _they had a good heart_ _. But for your sake, they're better off dead." Illyrian, shifted from a broken man to a tornado of fury. All the pain that filled his face had dissolved and for the first time, he looked terrifying. Like if he was capable of breaking through those binds, he could have killed him. But he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm._

" _So,_ _Father_ _, tell me - are you here to gloat or are you here to take the bullets out of my wings and let me finish what I started?" The Illyrian spat. Humor flickered across Tobias's face. Cold, cruel humor._

 _Father. That was her son. She could see it now – her blue eyes mixed with his black eyes. He had her nose, the curve of her lips. The wings she so dearly worshipped._

" _Neither, actually. The war is over, Rhysand. I'm taking you home," Tobias said. Rhysand shrunk back against the wall, his body going limp. "You, there. Get my damn son up. And don't you dare take out those bullets." Rhysand's eyes narrowed, reflecting the same look his father had given him earlier._

" _It can paralyze me if you don't take them out," Rhysand said dryly. Tobias smirked._

 _"_ _It's either that or I cut both of your wings off, Rhysand. You get to choose."_

 _And that scene, that horrifying scene between Tobias and what must have been her son, would have stayed with her. She would have acted upon it as soon as she opened her eyes, saving the cruel relationship between him and their future son. Her son, not her daughter. She would find a way to stop that from happening. If only she hadn't forgotten about it right when opened her eyes._

When her eyelids fluttered open there was nobody – just her in a lifeless room, with unmoving bodies surrounding her, shaking in the darkness. In the beginning, everything was blurry and her head was beating harshly, but then she felt the ribbon that laid limply in her palm, somehow still in her hand. There was a cool breeze whipping through the room as the stench of blood grew stronger and stronger. It hadn't occurred to her that she had been covered in Clythia's men's blood until a group of healer hustled into the room just as the savior said. Some gasped at the bodies laying out but they must have been tipped off because they went around them swiftly. One of them tried to grasp Selene as she finally staggered to her feet, but she ripped away jerkily. Her hand clenched the ribbon tightly.

"Don't touch me," she hissed. "I'm fine. My husband…" Four to five healers were already around him. At a distance, someone was asking her questions. She should've answered, saying as she was pregnant, but her eyes lingered away. Bodies were being moved around to help others fit into the room easier and nobody seemed to question on why there were so many body parts lying about. She counted the seconds that neither Rosalie nor Tobias replied. As people shook them and prodded them and shoved medicine down their throats, she counted the seconds. She couldn't do this without them, she realized. She couldn't live in this world if both of them were dead – she needed them. She needed them more than they would ever need her.

"Get the fuck off me," A gruff voice snarled. " _Get away from my wife_!" Suddenly, Tobias was standing upright. The healers inched away but as they tried to persuade him to sit down, he stumbled to his feet. His eyes were wide. Behind him, Rosalie began to reply as well. Selene was about to call out to her but then Tobias shoved the healers around her and he grasped her shoulders.

"What happened?" He demanded loudly. "What the hell happened, Selene? Answer me!" Her mouth was dry.

"Clythia," she said simply. Her voice didn't crack as she responded. "It was _Clythia_." His hands fell down from her body. The intensity that had filled his face disappeared. His face slackened. His body scrunched forward. It was like the power inside him had dulled – his face filled with absolutely nothing. His jaw unclenched wordlessly, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes.

"She-" And then she heard the stumble in the doorway. Leon was clenching the doorframe tightly, his face beaten and blood running down him. She went towards him, ripping away from Tobias's gaze and Leon nearly fell into her arms as he clutched her tightly. He buried his face into her hair, as if desperate to hold onto her. To hold onto something.

"You're okay," she said, and her eyes began to burn. "I thought you were dead." He loosened around her and put her head between his hands.

"Me too," he responded. "I thought…I thought I'd never see you again, Selene." His words hung in the air as he held onto her, truly making her wonder what her life would be like without him. Without _all_ of them.

"How did you survive?" Tobias asked. He was hovering behind her. Her eyebrows scrunched downward when she saw the tense look on Tobias's face. For a moment, there wasn't a hint of relief. Just coldness. Like he was calculating something in his head that didn't quite make sense, as if he was trying to fill in the pieces but didn't have the information he needed to do so.

"I was trampled," Leon said, his eyes falling away. "There were so many – they didn't even notice me when I went downstairs. They were rushing into the building and one of them rammed into me. I must have hit my head on the wall and gone unconscious. They didn't even notice that I was there." When Selene looked over her shoulder to meet eyes with Tobias, he was quiet. Chillingly quiet. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she turned back to Leon.

"Are you injured?" She asked softly. "Are you hurt?" A feeble smile appeared on Leon's lips.

"No," he said, his voice a whisper. "But…we must talk about who that was. Because that wasn't rebels." Tobias shook his head stiffly.

"No," he said, his voice hard. "It was Clythia. And now I see that home is the safest place we can be."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"They found the last hub of them last evening. Don't worry, beautiful Selene – they were hanged this morning. And I made sure every child of theirs, every lover, watched with a knife to their throat. She won't dare touch the Night Court ever again." It had been two days of tenseness. The ride back was quiet, aside from Tobias's aggressive squibbling on countless letters, and when they arrived back at the castle, Tobias projected a rage that Selene couldn't quite describe. All of the direct attackers were dead, but it wasn't unknown that they had immigrants from Hybern's kingdom living amongst the mountains and sympathizers of Hybern and Clythia's values. So he, because he couldn't take back what had happened to Selene, made it a goal to execute all of them. It didn't matter if they weren't the ones who committed such treachery – Tobias needed revenge, and he got it.

"Tobias, you're kidding," Leon breathed. "In front of their children?" He sat across from him on the large kitchen table, nibbling on a piece of toast. He had been quiet since the attack, as if he was walking on egg shells as well when it came to dodging Tobias's fury. But Selene recognized the horror in his eyes.

"What? You expect me to just let them live on naturally?" Tobias snarled back. "No, I want them to remember. I want them to remember the Night Court's unforgiveness and flee like ants. I won't have them in my court." Selene wasn't surprised. She meant what she said to those men about him taking away everything. And a part of her wanted to be angry, sickened by Tobias's actions, but there was a cold anger in her as well. They tried taking off her _wings_. Surely, people like that didn't deserve anything.

"They didn't commit those acts," Leon said, even quieter. He was angry too – reflecting the same fury, but instead his anger was shown by his quiet whispers. A silent, shivering anger that was just as powerful as Tobias's because nobody knew when it was about to burst. "They were innocent." Tobias's face didn't even flicker.

"They're brainwashed bigots who believe that there is such thing as an inferior race and would easily enslave my people if they had the chance," Tobias replied snappily. "People like that aren't innocent. Being prejudice is not a personal right."

"And how are you going to fix the problem now?" Leon said, louder. "What? You think Clythia will just take her defeat and walk away? She doesn't care if they died. She's just as damn stubborn as the rest of us." And his eyes hawked around the table – from Rosalie to Selene to Tobias.

"Leave her to me," Tobias replied. "She'll come to me, don't worry. She'll walk right into this castle because her beef is with _me_." Leon stood up jerkily.

"She will not walk into this castle," Leon said, snarling. "Not with your pregnant wife here. You need to stop playing games, Tobias!" Tobias didn't have to stand up to stare Leon down. His eyes grew darker.

"Oh, she won't be here," Tobias said silkily, a small smile on his face. It was a venomous smile – a cold, cruel smile. This time, Selene inched forward.

"Where will she be then?" Leon asked shrilly. "What? You're just going to send her back to her ash-filled village so that you can win this goddamn unneeded competition with Clythia?" Rosalie clasped onto Selene's arm tightly, as if suggesting that they would have to go through her first. Selene's eyes nailed on Tobias pointedly.

"No," Tobias said calmly, his eyes not looking away from Leon. "I'm sending her to the Court of Nightmares. The Hewn City."

"The Court of…Nightmares?" Selene said, her voice distant. "What is the court of-"

" _You are not sending your wife to the Court of Nightmares_!" Leon bellowed suddenly. His face was flushed with redness and his body was stiff. "Your thing with Clythia isn't worth it!" Selene stood suddenly, her back straight. Finally, Tobias looked at her. His face, almost seeming beastly for a moment, seemed to soften when he looked at her.

"Tobias," Selene said, her voice stern but calm. "What is the Court of Nightmares?" Leon opened his mouth but Tobias interrupted him by standing up.

"The Court of Nightmares is what it sounds like, beautiful Selene. It's filled with our most cruel, infamous elites. The elites that are widely known across other courts for their brutality, the same exact elites that don't know of Velaris's existence because they're too damn barbaric for me to trust," Tobias drawled. "A long time ago, the High Lord of the Night Court would rule in the Court of Nightmares himself. It was so widely known elsewhere that even after Velaris was born, the Court of Nightmares was kept to discourage people from being curious of our court and how we live. It helped Velaris remain a secret."

"You would allow your wife to live with the cruelest people on this planet?" Leon asked, each word clipped shortly. "Your mate?" And something flickered in Tobias's eyes – a sense of defense, maybe?

"If there's one place in this world that is untouchable, it's the Court of Nightmares," Tobias said. "She won't need bodyguards or soldiers or even an extra eye. Nobody would dare check that hell hole. Even if Clythia knew she was there, she wouldn't have the balls to invade it."

"And for good reason," Leon said. "For damn good reason!" Tobias's eyes went away from him, holding onto Selene's again. His dark eyes held swirls of determination and promise. Of pure, raw honesty. But not a single hint of regret.

"It'll be over before you know it. You'll live amongst the richest, and every person there will be under the order that you get whatever you need whenever you want it," Tobias said. "And I'll make sure that you'll have a whole team of physicians, beautiful Selene. You won't be alone." Selene blinked rapidly.

"For when the baby comes?" Selene asked, confused now. "How long am I going to be there?" Leon looked like he was going to be sick.

"You would let your wife give birth in the Court of Nightmares?" Leon interjected, his voice nearly inaudible. His words were filled with disgust. "You're okay with your child being birthed in the worst place known to Prythian? In hell?" Rosalie didn't say anything but her face grew paler.

"Does it matter where she's born? She's not an heir," Tobias said dismissively.

"None of our ancestors have ever given birth there," Leon continued, as if he hadn't even spoken. "Not even when the High Lord resided there. Their wives always gave birth in the light – in a place of beauty."

"I'll take care of her," Rosalie interrupted quietly. "She'll need someone next to her if she's going to give birth there." Leon shook his head. His lips pursed tightly.

" _No_ ," he said in surrender. "I'll go. I'll go with her. Just because you don't want to be there, Tobias, does not mean-"

"You will not," Tobias barked. "You will stay here, at the castle, with _me_. I need you here." Leon looked like he was going to burst into darkness. Like a thousand things were swirling around in his head and he was struggling to stay calm. His hands were shaking.

"I'm not leaving my family. I am not giving up-"

"Unfortunately, you don't have a choice in the matter, do you?" Tobias hissed. "Because you aren't High Lord." Leon's nose flared. There was a moment of quietness, and Selene couldn't help but hold her breath.

"Why?" Leon demanded after a moment. "Why must I stay? Why must I live here, in this grand mansion, as Selene is stuck in hell?" Tobias rolled his eyes.

"You have an actual position, she's just my wife," Tobias said coldly. Selene shrunk at the comment. _Just his wife_? But she didn't interfere.

"My position doesn't mean anything if my family isn't here," Leon argued. Tobias scoffed at this.

"She's not your _family_ ," he muttered under his breath. "She's my wife. You wouldn't even know her if it weren't for me." Leon nearly flinched at this. He was looking at him crazily, sickened.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked quietly, but this time his voice was fragile. "Why do you feel the need to separate us like dolls? Clythia has the ability to destroy our court and you aren't even thinking of that. Why are you more focused on sending Selene away, and forcing me to be locked inside this castle, when you should really be fighting Clythia and ending-" But then his voice choked. Selene's palms, she realized, were sweating as she watched Leon stumble on his words. His eyes widened.

"You selfish bastard," he whispered. "You selfish-"

"What?" Selene finally bursted. "Could one of you tell me what's going on?"

"You don't think there won't be any casualties in this family so instead of fighting together, you're separating us," Leon said aloud. "Instead of keeping us together and fighting her as one family, you're separating us so that you don't have to deal with multiple loses. Because you can't lose both of us, right? Maybe one of us, but not both, am I correct?"

"Is that true?" Selene asked, her voice sharp. "Are you separating us because you are certain one of us will die?"

"You don't understand," Tobias snapped. But there was something that casted in his eyes – something pleading, something only she could see. Like he was speaking with his eyes, begging her in silent communication. And she remembered now what he had said, not so long ago. That there was a darkness looming in the castle, and that it was close to suffocating him. That it was too dangerous for her.

"You have a duty. You both have a duty," Tobias said to both of them, casting each one a long look. "Hate me, curse me, but you both walked into this castle with a duty. And you will follow that duty." Leon didn't even blink.

"You do too," Leon said. "You have a duty too, Tobias." Tobias didn't even twitch.

"I am not going to hear anymore of this," Tobias said, fuming. "Leon, call a meeting with the highest officials. Selene, go pack-" But then Leon raised his hand and a stream of blackness beamed from his palm. Terrifying, ruthless blackness. She saw the darkness spread into the air, just before hitting Tobias in the chest. Before she knew it, it had covered everything – there was not a hint of light. And with that darkness, came a freezing, whistling wind that hit her ears sharply, with a sea of air that was as strong as the night skies in a stormy night. That was the only way she could explain it – like she was thousands of feet in the air in the darkest of stormy nights. The chair behind her flung away, hitting the wall with a bang. She felt a thin hand grab her, letting out a yelp. Quickly, Selene released her wings, covering her and Rosalie as she felt Rosalie's body begin to fling into the air. Selene couldn't hold herself down – not in the blackest of nights, not in a world of cold wind and darkness. She let the wind take them both as Rosalie grabbed her, allowing her wings to steer both of them erratically. Glass shattered at a distance, she could hear the splintering of wood from the walls. She felt like she wasn't even in the world anymore – they were between the world and some place far, far away. Fear was bursting inside of her. This was worse than death. The coldness, the world spinning around her, the darkest of nights, the feeling that she was nowhere but everywhere at the same time. That she was trapped between nothingness.

But then she saw colors. Beautiful colors – stars, an entire galaxy. It wrapped around them like a blanket, the prettiest display she had ever seen. And though the darkness was still there, this darkness was protecting her. The colors soothed her. The dancing stars and the swirling night reminded of all the times that she felt safe, the only times she felt like she had something worth living for. The gust of wind slowed so suddenly that she couldn't steer anymore. She was projected out in a random direction, her nails digging into Rosalie's arm as she prepared herself for the deathly impact. But rough hands grabbed onto her, a body enveloping around her and Rosalie as they flung against something hard and prickly. Whoever had grabbed her, pushed her to the floor with him, and she held onto Rosalie deathly.

When the darkness disappeared, and the night sky swam away, she looked beside her. Tobias was holding onto her tightly, his eyes scrolling her desperately. Everything seemed to hurt her– from the glass that layered the floor beneath her, to her back that collided with the broken wall. But she saw that Tobias took the most of it. There were cuts all over him from the glass that blasted across the room, and not a single thing on her. His clothes were shredded and there were large red marks across his body as if pieces of chairs and decorations and broken bits of the table had repeatedly hit him.

It was clear, as Selene looked up towards Leon, what had happened. Leon had lost his control – had tried attacking him with the vicious blackness. But Tobias saved them. With his stars and soothing night.

Though everything was still, his hands were still around her, holding onto her deathly. She couldn't even move.

"I…I am so…" Leon was shaking. He wasn't harmed – not a single thing had touched him. He hadn't even moved from where he stood. "Are you okay? Are you-"

"Get away from her," Tobias spat. "Don't you take a step closer." To her surprise, Leon didn't move. He looked like he was in tears.

"Tobias, I didn't mean to," Leon said. "It was an acc-"

"There is no such thing as accidents!" Tobias shouted. "You could have killed her. With that intensity of power, you could have killed her!" Tobias let her go slowly, standing on his feet. The glass crunched beneath him as he took slow, steady steps. Leon looked at Selene desperately.

"Selene, I am so sorry," Leon stumbled. "I lost my cool. It won't happen again. It wasn't intentional. I promise, I would never-"

"I'll go," Selene said softly. She was talking to Tobias. He looked like he had lost all humanity in his face – as if he was no longer intending on holding down the irrational beast inside him. Except, when she spoke, he turned to look at her. After all, she was his humanity. She was everything. "Rosalie and I will go immediately. I'll stay there for as long as you need, Tobias. But fix this. _Fix it_."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"I have a plan." She hadn't even noticed the bedroom door had opened until Tobias closed it with a bang. She swung around, watching as he locked it. He looked spun-up, like he had buckets of energy inside him begging to come out. While she, abnormally calm, was slowly folding her clothes in a suitcase.

"I know. I heard the plan, Tobias," she said coolly. Tobias's lightened face darkened. She saw him shake his head in her peripheral vision as he walked towards her.

"I'm not actually going to make you give birth in the Court of Nightmares, Selene," Tobias said dryly. "I'm not a monster." She stopped folding and looked at him. He looked certain, truthful. Alive. While she looked tired and lifeless.

"So why did you tell Leon and Rosalie that I was?" She asked robotically, clearly not interested in his response but only asking because she knew he wanted her to ask. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Because there are spies in this castle, Selene. I can try cleaning them out however times I want, but there will always be spies here. Spies from different courts, from rebels groups, from anything," Tobias said. "And usually, I speak freely because the spies here are typically just from other courts who are only listening to alert their high lord in the case that we consider going to war, but I don't want to risk it. Just in case Clythia has someone here listening, I don't want anyone knowing of our plan. Not even our family. I want it to be only between you and me." Her eyebrows slowly rose.

"He has a point though," she said. His eyebrows rose.

"What do you mean _he has a point_?" He repeated, this time harsher. She didn't stammer when she replied.

"That we should be fighting this together. That we should stay in the same place. I shouldn't be sent to some underground hell hole, Leon shouldn't be ordered to remain here. Rosalie-"

"I told you there was darkness looming, Selene," he hissed. "I told you there were things that you had no idea was going on."

"Oh, I remember," Selene said. "But I am also carrying your child, Tobias. Thus far, your only child. The child you so dearly wanted to not be an heir, and I am giving that to you. So forgive me if I believe someone else's advice is worth considering." His eyes darkened.

"Someone else's advice or someone else's word?" She opened her mouth but then closed it stupidly. She wished she could retort his accusation with a scoff, but he was right. His face tightened.

"I thought you trusted me," he said, his voice lower. "Fuck, Selene, are we really-"

"He threw the dark, night sky at you," Selene said, her voice rising over his. He flinched at the words. "I've never seen him do magic, Tobias. Never. That was power that could only come from a High Lord. He was so sure, so positive, that he reached into instincts that should never have even existed-"

"Don't you _ever_ question my claim!" Tobias's voice rose. His voice boomed so suddenly that she jumped.

"I am still your High Lord! I may be your husband, but I am still your High Lord!" He continued. "And I will not tolerate disobedience. Especially from my own wife." His face was red with anger, his hands clenched at his sides. Selene's hand immediately went to her bump.

"I didn't mean that," Selene said quietly. "I just thought…it was like a fight or flight moment. He was so sure, so needing for you to listen to him that he reached into a part of him that doesn't exist. Isn't that worth considering that possibly he is right?" He looked away coldly.

"He is wrong," he said simply. He turned towards the door, his face still tight. "You leave in fifteen minutes."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The mountain itself wasn't that spectacular. As she stared at the interest, her eyebrows up in mild surprise, she glanced behind her. There were four bodyguards staring in front of her harshly and Rosalie was extremely quiet as she stared ahead of her.

"Well, I'll go in first, then," Selene said, not without looking around her in annoyance. But when she walked into the pitch blackness, thinking she had possibly even walked into a trap, her mouth dried.

"Keep walking," she heard someone hiss. So she did. She kept walking in the blackness, not seeing anything. And each step felt like she was walking a mile, because surely, this blackness had to be the worst part of the Court of Nightmares. Not anything else.

Until she saw the red glow in front of her, blinding her for just a moment, and saw the world of darkness that Tobias resented so bitterly.

She had almost ran into a slave. The slave, having handcuffs on them tightly, so skinny that his rags dangled off him, was following the chain of people in front of him aimlessly. He didn't even look at her as someone's thin hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her away from the chain of people. The chain went on to twenty or thirty people. Tobias had once looked Clythia in the eyes and said it was illegal. But she saw now that the Court of Nightmares was a different place, a place that didn't obey Tobias.

As Rosalie pulled her away from the chain of people, she could finally digest what she was looking at. Everything seemed to be engraved into the mountain. They were standing at the top of the mountain, miles above from where the Hewn City lived. The stairs that she was standing on were long and thick, spiraling around the mountain continuously. It would be a long walk down that was for sure. She couldn't see much, but as Rosalie pulled her down the steep, uneven stairs, she began to depict what was below her. There were vendors, and small dots of people humming around them. She noticed that the slaves she ran into weren't the only ones – she could see the lines of them from where she stood, the little dots walking uniformly. The only thing that stood out from where she stood was the large, black castle that took up most of the base of the mountain. It was probably identical to the one that Tobias had, except as black as night and a crawly feeling went down her back when she saw it. As she stared, Rosalie was adamant at pulling her down. They passed little homes that were engrained into the walls of the mountains, and the occasional citizen that was obviously not a slave, yet just as skinny and sick as the rest. Nobody smiled, nobody seemed happy. The walk was long, and it was only when the base of the mountain began to look clear that she stumbled.

Rosalie had stepped over it absent mindedly – or maybe just hoping that Selene wouldn't notice it at all. But it was the corpse of a child. A naked boy, probably seven or eight, with marks all over him and a gashed wound over his heart. Nobody was around him, nobody cared. But his eyes were wide open, parts of his skin beginning to turn green. A child, of all things. And nobody cared. A nausea rose in her stomach, and she thought she might even barf, but Rosalie pulled her tightly. The picture would forever remain in her head, but it didn't get any better. She passed over men, shoving random women to walls and fucking them viciously. There were random bodies slumped over, missing body parts and cut open jaggedly. There was bile and bodily fluids on the ground consistently.

"Are they eating-"

"It doesn't matter. You won't be out here. Tobias has arranged for you to live in the castle. You'll get your own wing and he'll send you food every day," Rosalie said under her breath. Selene blinked at her rapidly.

"I'm supposed to live in that castle and never leave?" Selene said. "He'll send me food like a…like a prisoner?" And she guessed she deserved it. She did, in fact, question his claim. Maybe she hadn't realized it when she said it aloud, but deep down, now that she saw the power Leon had, she did.

"Kier and his fiancé have been advised to give you anything you want," Rosalie said, and there was a touch of bitterness on her tongue. Selene's eyebrows rose.

"Who's Kier?" She asked. Rosalie stopped for a moment, almost as if she was surprised that Tobias hadn't told her.

"Kier the Darkbringer. He's the…he's the leader of this place," Rosalie said. "He thinks he's a king." Selene scoffed at her.

"Every man thinks they're a king," Selene countered. "But, in the end, my husband outranks them all." Rosalie opened and closed her mouth, as if she was tempted to warn her, but Selene walked past the vendors and the starving citizens. She didn't even glance at the soldiers who protected the double doors to the kingdom. Instead, she opened the doors herself, with Rosalie teetering behind her, and walked in without a single permission.

She was mildly impressed with the place. Not only did the outside look like a darker, more unwelcoming version of Tobias's own castle, but so did the inside. It was like the inverse of the estate she lived in, with the same beautiful rugs but instead patterns of torture and death. The beautiful staircases, carved with beautiful designs, yet instead they were a coal-like black and the designs looked far more dreadful. She didn't look twice at the death-like flowers that rested in ugly vases and didn't stare at the oil-paintings that were painted scenes of hell. The marble floor was black with specks of red, and she couldn't help but notice how nice everything was, the luxury of the castle, and yet everybody outside was starving. But she didn't have time for pity. She wanted to get this sentence over with.

She began hearing the chatter about half into the castle. She knew it must have come from the grand hall. Clearly, nobody had invited her to the grand dinner. Maybe they had…forgotten? But Tobias wasn't someone who people forgot. She made her way to the closed doors, the doors so alike to Tobias's own grand hall. But she opened them herself, walking in grandiosely as she met eyes with the hundreds of eyes that turned to her all at once. Clearly, this was where the elites lived.

She eyed the opposite side of the grand hall. There were two people – a woman, dressed in black, sipping on a cup silently and beside her. It almost all seemed normal. The elites, though selfish as they may be, were chatting together peacefully. The guards were standing at the doors, not to kill but to protect. Yet, when she met eyes with the man at the head table, her stomach churned. He wasn't even looking at her. Surely, he saw the grand doors open. She was positive someone had alerted him of her presence. But he was more intrigued by the near-naked woman at his side. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she began walking to the front table. She walked past the number of people, ignoring their stares. She didn't stop until she was at the head table. The man was still speaking to the girl, certainly a whore, as Selene stood in front of them. The woman on the opposite side stopped sipping. The grand hall had gone quiet.

"You must be Kier." Her voice was colder than ice. Finally, he stopped paying attention to the girl. His smile dropped. Something hardened on his face.

"The people here call me Lord," Kier said, just as cold. Her smile, thin and cruel, lengthened.

"I'm struggling to see why," Selene said slowly. "This place is a dump." His face darkened. He stepped away from the table, going around it to grow closer to her.

"What can I do for you?" Kier said. His voice was emotionless, with no intent of caring.

"Firstly, when the Lady of Night walks into your home, you bow," Selene hissed through her teeth. Kier was quiet for a moment, holding her stare. Clearly, there was something she hadn't seen. Some unknown grudge she couldn't have predicted, now expected. His face was tight.

"The Court of Nightmares does not bow to lesser creatures." And when he said that, she didn't know if she meant by the fact that she was Illyrian, or because she was a woman. Either way, her chin rose, staring him down as if he was dead vermin rotting on the ground. She didn't have to grow closer to him to intimidate him. Instead, she held his gaze tightly.

"My stay here is indefinite, Kier. You'll learn very fast that my word goes straight to your High Lord's ear. There is no voice that whispers louder than my own, no heartbeat that can effect the world so disastrously. I can turn this place to dust within a matter of seconds, and make it flourish with a single word to your dear High Lord," Selene said, her voice not rising a bit but she knew everybody could hear her words. "You will bow. You will bow or I'll leave. And you don't want me to leave, Kier. Because the Court of Nightmares was created to be a prison, and if this can't be a prison for me, then your High Lord won't see a reason for it to exist at all." Kier had lost all blood in his face. His shoulders slumped forward and for just a moment, he looked like he might get ill, but then he smirked.

"What did you do then? For him to lock his own wife into this prison?" Kier asked hungrily. She didn't even stammer.

"I made him love me," Selene answered. There was a stir amongst the crowd. Kier's smirk dropped and the audience looked at one another. And then Kier, along with the rest of the audience, sunk to their knees. Even she was struck by the sudden decision to obey, but then she heard a silky, humored voice behind her. A voice she recognized well.

"Well, wasn't that one hell of a speech." She spun around, and she tried not to seem surprised when she met eyes. But her body stiffened, her eyes grew wider. At her side, she heard Rosalie exhale sharply. Her eyes narrowed. And when she spoke, she couldn't help but be a little disappointed.

"Jameson," she drawled. "Your alive." His smile, lengthy and cold, spread across his face.

"Isn't it a miracle?" He replied surly.

This was a wee bit shorter. Mostly because I kinda just wanna post it. Plus, I don't know how I'm going to transition it right now. Also, I am a few pages into my next chapter of Red & Gold, which I plead more people to read. I feel like, personally, it's one of the best I've written. Possibly a bit too angsty, but angst is always good.

Also, forgive my horrible grammar. I know it's awful but it's a fanfiction. It's not like I'm publishing it.

Now, thousands of people read this weekly. Surely, more than four people can give me a review. It's not that hard, I promise ;)


	15. Chapter 15

"Welcome to the Court of Nightmares." The buzz, the resting eyes, ended just as fast as it started. As she stared and stared at Jameson, the rest of the court returned to their meal. Kier - whatever leader he claimed to be, was already back in his seat and flirting with the whore again. And whatever kind've entertainment she had shown to be to the rest of the people at the court, was evidently over.

Her fingers were shaking.

"Thanks," she replied through her clenched teeth. Rosalie had inched away from her, as if she knew that this was too personal of a conversation for her to hear. Selene found herself drifting towards Jameson curiously, even following him as he slowly left the head table. She couldn't help but look him over continuously as they walked away from Kier and his people. He looked beautiful, as usual. With a maroon tunic and jet black pants. His eyes were shining brightly, happiness nearly glowing off his face as he led her away. It was as if he had been reincarnated into a whole new person - like all the negative feelings, all the memories that had been slowly killing him, were washed clean. He walked with a new grace that Tobias had never shown. While Tobias's movements were harsh and powerful, Jameson's were swift and feline.

"I heard your husband sent you away," Jameson said, choking back a laugh. Her nose flared. Heat flooded her cheeks.

"He did it for my safety," she snarled. Jameson's shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips as she followed him out of the great hall. She didn't hesitate as she followed him away.

"The last I checked, sending your wife to hell whilst being in the beginning of her pregnancy isn't exactly protective," Jameson muttered, his eyes flickering at her fast. She grimaced.

"What are you doing here?" She spat. "How are you even alive?" She assumed he bled to death. After Jameson stopped responding to Tobias's rage and passed out, Tobias demanded for the sentries to take him away. Sure, Tobias didn't kill him, but she was surprised that Jameson survived the injuries.

"It's good to have friends in the worst of places," Jameson said, walking up a twirling, endless staircase. "Nobody ever thinks about them when hell breaks loose. Nobody remembers them." Them, as in Kier and his beastly court. "You might even start to like them. They aren't all bad - once you earn their respect, at least." She could only imagine what that would be. Killing a newborn child? Selling a teenage girl into a sex trade? Beating a slave to death? She wouldn't be a part of that.

But then the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"Where are you taking me?" Selene demanded finally, after realizing that he was going to a specific place, not just roaming aimlessly. It was probably stupid, she thought, to have followed his footsteps in the first place. But after making it to the first landing, she realized it was too late to go back.

"Your room, of course," Jameson said silkily. "It would be better for you to be in your room rather than the great hall tonight. You don't want to tempt them." Selene's eyes narrowed.

"Tempt them? Tempt them, how exactly?" Selene asked, but all he did was reply with a chuckle. She tensed.

"Did you know I was coming?" Selene asked. He didn't respond. But then she asked quietly, "How are you even here?" The side of Jameson's lips tugged upward.

"I may or may not have an alias that keeps my identity hidden to everybody outside of the Court of Nightmares," Jameson responded smoothly. "The people here call me Jameson, of course, but Tobias has been told that I'm just…an advisor of sort, named Varun. He didn't even bother to come down and shake my hand." _Varun_. She hadn't heard Tobias say the name in his meetings. Maybe Jameson was right. The Court of Nightmares was the perfect place to hide because even Tobias could care less about what they do as long as they stayed under the mountain. The people in the Court of Nightmares were a race to be contained, not a race that he wanted to embrace. As long as they were invisible, he could care less.

"Also, just to be on the same lines, Selene, you'll find that these people respect me with a respect that Tobias will never get," Jameson hissed suddenly. She blinked, the tightness on her face unraveling. "When Kier bowed for me, it wasn't because he had to. It was because he wanted to." She couldn't tell if it was a threat or an explanation. Probably both, she decided. But she would not bow to him. Not now, not ever. And she was sure that it was written all over her face.

He stopped and opened a door. Carefully, without her moving another step towards him, she looked inside the room. It wasn't anything compared to the room she had been granted at Tobias's palace. It was small with a twin bed and a dirty window. There was a bed stand but it looked wobbly and there was a crooked dresser next to an open bathroom. She didn't dare look inside it.

"Where will Rosalie sleep?" Selene demanded angrily. "I am a Lady. You need to accoma-"

"You're nobody," Jameson corrected dryly. "And, we weren't informed that Rosalie would be joining you." _You're nobody_. Though she didn't care now, the words would mock her later. But still, she ignored it. Instead, her eyes lingered on the bed.

So Rosalie would have to sleep on the floor. She wasn't entirely sure if Rosalie could even fit on the floor without being crammed between the door and the bed. Unless, perhaps, Rosalie and her could fit in one bed. Surely, she probably could.

"Spend the rest of your night in your room, Selene. Rest, eat. I'll send someone to bring up some dinner. And when you leave your room tomorrow morning and truly walk into the world of Night, find me." Her eyes narrowed. She didn't want to admit that her mouth had dried up. Or that this place terrified her. Even more, that _Jameson_ terrified her. Tobias underestimated him, the entire Night Court underestimated him.

But when Tobias beckons her back to court, she will remember. She will remember that Jameson took hold of the Court of Nightmares and broke Tobias's wishes. She'll tell her husband of Jameson's crimes and fix this mess. She will not forget.

"I'm not allowed to leave the palace," she replied hotly. His face faltered. She almost saw pity in his eyes. Belittling, unwanted, laughable pity. And she didn't want it.

"So said the man who sent you to the Court of Nightmares and didn't bother to send a single sentry to watch over you," Jameson snapped back. "Don't be afraid to live in Hell, Selene. You'll find that you may have more freedom here than you ever would at Tobias's palace." At _Velaris_. He didn't have to say the word for her to know what he meant. Obviously, Velaris was a secret even he wouldn't speak about. Not even here.

"Stay here if you wish," Jameson said, shrugging. "But when you need some company, you'll find me far away from this broken prison of a palace." And as she watched him walk around her, as if she was just another woman he would talk to tonight, she found herself holding her breath. This was Jameson's kingdom, not Tobias's. She walked into a trap, enemy's territory. And now all she could do was wait for Tobias to summon her back.

A day in the Night Court was three days in the Court of Nightmares. For whatever reason, nobody informed her of that until she arrived. Nobody told her that with every night that Tobias slept in his bed alone, she would have to sleep three. She would grow far older, have three times the amount of days, before she saw him again. After speaking with a healer who had dropped by her room just before she fell asleep, she was informed that her baby was still on Tobias's time zone. Meaning, she wouldn't be pregnant for six more months. She would be pregnant, at least in the Court of Nightmares, for eighteen more months. If, of course, Tobias didn't come back for her sooner.

But she did this. She was the one who threw her marriage down the toilet. She hadn't supported Tobias like a normal wife would have - instead, she told him he wasn't fit for his own throne. How _could_ he ever believe that she was safe in his home when she wasn't even on his side? She was a hazard, if anything. It was better for her to be put away while he figured out all of the troubling forces in the Night Court.

"The prison life suits you." Though it was only her second day there, and only a little over half a day in the Night Court, she was still in her room. She had given Rosalie permission to roam the property, to at least learn more about the Court of Nightmare's elites. Initially, Rosalie refused but after hours of being stuck in the small room, Rosalie agreed to explore without her. Periodically, she would appear back, giving her bits and pieces of information she had learned. But, in the end, it didn't make a difference. None of the information she brought back was substantial.

But now Jameson was leaning against her door frame, his light eyebrows perched upward. It still unnerved her that he was there - not because he was alive, but because she knew it wasn't against the rules. That he could in fact walk in whenever he liked and not have a single consequence. Even worse, there would be no consequence for her. She was used to rules and obligations and promises. But here, it seemed like none of that mattered. She watched from her window as people buzzed about, hearing voices trail down the hall. None of them cared that Tobias was their High Lord. It was like he didn't even exist in the Court of Nightmares.

"I thought it was the maid bringing me food," Selene said coolly, eyeing the open door. It wasn't a lie – the only person who had bothered knocking on her door since she got here was the maid.

"I decided to drop by," Jameson said, picking at his nails.

"I thought you said if I wanted to find you, you'd be elsewhere," Selene snapped. "You aren't elsewhere." Jameson let out a chuckle, but Selene could see past the smile on his face. There was something else, some other reason beyond being at her door.

"The maid needs to clean," Jameson said to her. "You aren't so self-pitying that you're willing to piss off the maid, are you?" She glared at him.

"I am not self-pitying. This is just a short-term situation. Why bother going about?" Selene replied. Jameson shrugged.

"Eighteen months is a long time to be pregnant by yourself," Jameson's voice lingered, smiling lightly. She couldn't help but stiffen at those words. _Eighteen months_. She was only a little over two months pregnant, and now it would take her eighteen more months before she would see her child. "You might as well make some damn friends. Rosalie, though…Rosalie has made a _lot_ of friends." She took a step towards him. It was only one step, but she noticed how Jameson's foolish face dropped.

"I'm not here to make friends," Selene replied sharply. "I'm only here to keep his child safe." Her hand went to her slight bump. Jameson eyed it curiously.

"Not to be rude, but nobody cares enough to hurt your child here," Jameson replied with a snort. "Actually, nobody cares about your damn child in general." Her jaw clenched.

"I'm not going to take that chance." But Jameson let out his hand.

"I promise," Jameson drawled, "That I'll keep your unborn child safe, alright? But you can't keep yourself cooped up in here. Or the maid is going to drag you out herself."

"You can roam wherever you wish, you know," Jameson said as he led her out of the palace. "But I must say, you have to be careful." She scuffed at him. She knew, that despite Jameson's eyes lingering away from her, he was watching her every step. He noticed that she walked on her tippy toes, just in case she stepped in blood or pee. She didn't dare go close to any of the muddy, dirty walls. Her eyes stayed in front of her stubbornly, refusing to look at her surroundings. Refusing to see the horror.

"I must be careful but I must leave the palace," Selene said, mocking him. She saw the corner of his lips go upward, a cold smile. "I must not isolate myself, but nobody here wants me. I must-"

"High Whore." She spun towards the voice. _That_ was a new one. She could've sworn that Jameson grew closer to her as she swirled around, her jaw tensing at the voice.

"What did you call me?" Selene growled. Her eyes landed on a woman who was glowering at her. The woman, whose whole body was coated with dirt and whose hair was matted down her back, hissed at her. The rags she wore barely stayed on her, and she smelled like she had been in a dungeon for over a century. Just looking at the peasant woman, Selene was tempted to scuff. Disgusting, too lazy to clean herself up.

"High _Whore_ ," the woman said again, this time louder. Selene could only blink. She glanced around quickly to meet the many eyes staring at her – she was so desperate to not look at her surroundings when she first left the palace. She hadn't noticed people had been goggling at her until the woman insulted her.

"I am not _High_ nor am I a _whore_. I am an Illyrian," Selene corrected. If she wasn't so utterly insulted, she might have even appeared dumbfounded at the insult. "Mated with your High Lord." The woman laughed. A cold, sharp laugh.

"He is not my anything," the woman chuckled coldly. "He is not worthy here."

"Worthy here? He and his ancestors are keeping this place alive. If it weren't for him-" Jameson took her arm jerkily. His eyes weren't merciful when he stared at the woman. The woman's face slackened when her eyes met his glare. Clearly, he meant something here.

"The High Whore has things to do," Jameson said, a small, mocking smile slithering on his face. Selene scowled at him but he pulled her away before she could continue the conversation with the woman. Clearly, Jameson wasn't against his people humiliating her.

"Is that how you're going to allow your people to treat me?" Selene asked sharply. "Is that-" But the look on his face made her silent. He was looking at her tightly, his eyes scanning her face, her body. She pulled him along grudgingly, trying to keep past the ongoing stares.

"She has a point, you know," Jameson muttered under her breath. Her mouth dropped.

"Excuse me, I am not-" But then he stopped. Despite her desire to keep moving, she had no choice but to stop with him. After all, she didn't want to be out here alone.

She followed his eyes.

There was blood everywhere. Fresh, dark red, blood. There was a trail of it leading into a clothing store, as if someone had dragged the body inside without hesitation. It wasn't any worse than the rest of Court – she had stepped over countless bodies, but this was different. She heard murmurs coming from inside the shop, as if someone actually…cared.

Jameson was wide-eyed. His face had flushed and his body grew still.

"Wait here," he said, his eyes not tearing away from the shop. "Just-just wait here." He turned to the opposite way, rushing down the dirty path that had originally brought them to shop. Running far, far away. And leaving her alone.

At first, Selene was still as stone. A shiver ran down her spine as she was realized that she was suddenly defenseless. Nobody was looking at her, but her hands grew clammy and she suddenly felt restless. She couldn't just wait outside, that would be ludicrous. Someone could attack her, or kidnap her, or do something else disgustingly awful.

"Who the fuck are you?" She jumped to her left. The person beside her was looking at her in disgust, eyeing her clean clothes like it was covered with vermin and sneering at her polished body. Selene's nose flared.

"Who am I?" Selene snarled. "I'm…" But then her voice trailed. This person clearly didn't know who she was, but past her facial expression, Selene saw a hint of desperation. Alike to her, the opposite person was rigid and sweat was pouring down the side of her face.

"Is there something wrong?" Selene asked sharply, eyeing the shop. She realized, as she looked closer, that the shops weren't as much shops as they were holes in the mountain. The floors weren't covered with wood or carpet, and the only light came from the dimly-lit hanging lanterns. They were more like caves with furniture.

"I was going to ask you the same," the woman hissed. "What happened?" But Selene could tell that the woman already had a guess. Curiously, Selene tilted her head towards the door as if to motion her with her and they entered the chaotic opening.

She supposed it could've been a small pharmacy. There was a long table, with knives and clamps. As she walked further in, she analyzed the shelves filled with dirty vials of different plants and minerals. She was familiar with almost all of them – but many, she knew, weren't responsive to health issues.

"What's going on?" Selene finally said as she stumbled towards a crowd of people, seven or eight. They were all circled around in a huddle. "What-" It was a girl. A little older than her, but not old enough to be on the ground, dying. Her eyes were closed but sweat was pouring down her body and her entire body was trembling. Selene instantly noted that her skin was dangerously jaundice and a pale liquid was oozing out of her closed eyes and dark blood was spilling out of her nose. She knew what it was.

"Phallik Fever," Selene said aloud. Instantly, everybody's body swung towards her. Their eyes collectively, as they analyzed her clean, elite self, filled with distaste. One of the women, a woman with brown skin and greasy hair, who was closest to the ill individual, stood up.

"Get out of my shop," she said, her voice sharp as a dagger. Selene nearly shuddered. "Your kind isn't welcomed here." Though the woman's eyes were glossy, there wasn't a single tremor in the woman's words. She was tough, brutal, and Selene knew that the woman wasn't going to be tolerant of her unwelcomed arrival. But Selene's eyes looked down at the girl, scrolling across her body carefully.

"She's close to death," Selene said, almost to herself. Suddenly, she was on her knees, shoving past the people crowding her and inches away from the girl. "I've seen this before. Give me a strand of red lace root!" Nobody said anything. Nobody even moved. But her eyes found the woman who had snarled at her. Her face was tight, unyielding. There was nothing in her eyes, _nothing_ , that reflected any trust.

"What do you think you are? A healer?" The words came out harsh, but Selene was familiar with that tone. It was a tone of desperation, fear that they were about to lose everything that mattered. Anger and defense in the response to terror. So she moved around them swiftly, motioning for them to give her the red lace root. Though nothing showed on her face, she was surprised to find it in her hand without hesitation.

"Cauldron, she's had it for a while," Selene hissed under her breath as she ripped the root with her fingers. "I've never seen a case this bad." Nobody spoke as she, with her thumb nail, squeezed the little juice that the root had in her palm. She spat in her hand quickly, rubbing the juice with her saliva. There were murmurs behind her.

"The peppermint?" She demanded, her other hand out. There was a slight delay, causing her to let out a growl, but somebody put the peppermint in her hand. She layered the juice on the peppermint and then pounded it together in her fist.

"Turn her over," she demanded. A few gruff hands went around her and pulled the women on her side. Selene released a breath.

"Someone keep her mouth closed," Selene instructed. Murmurs erupted again but someone clamped her lips. Selene then put the ripped peppermint in her nose. The girl jerked but her eyes didn't open. The hand covering her mouth started to fall away but Selene snapped for them to hold the hand there.

"Give it a moment," she demanded. As the seconds lengthened, people began to fidget, but then the girl jerked. She twitched twice before her eyes opened suddenly. The hand covering her mouth let go in perfect time, watching as the girl let her stomach go several times on the dirty ground. At first, it was just acidic liquid, but then dark black liquid began to choke out. Only a mouthful, thankfully. And like magic, the girls face went from yellow to colorful, and her body stiffened.

There was a moment where Selene let herself catch her breath. But when she finally broke her attention from the girl, her jaw was clenched and her face was rippled with pure disgust.

"I had never seen a case that bad," Selene said aloud. "You all are lucky that it was only a mouthful. Any more than this treatment would have killed her anyways. What is _wrong_ with you people? You had the ingredients with you. Why didn't you use it?" When she looked up, and she saw how round everybody's eyes were, she knew their answer.

"We don't have a healer. We aren't allowed to. A High Lord hasn't sent a healer down here in over three centuries," the shop owner said quietly. "We just…we just have books. Recipes that other healers have left behind. But we don't know how to actually do this." Selene's face slackened.

"We've never seen anyone stop someone from dying from Phellik Fever," a woman, the grouchy one, added. "It's a plague, down here. It spreads like wild-fire. Usually, people only have a week to live." Selene opened her mouth and the closed it tightly.

"We didn't know you used peppermint," another person added, almost to themselves. "We always thought it was rosemary. But you knew." And she understood it now. She understood their coldness, their brutality. Phellik Fever was an easily curable disease, but if they walked around every moment of every day, terrified that they would die just by walking outside, how could they ever be happy? How could they spare the ability to care for others? They barely had the ability to take care of themselves.

"Do you know how to cure _anything_?" Selene breathed. None of them responded. They wouldn't admit how deprived they were. They would never admit how inferior they were to the rest of the world.

"My name is Maddox. I have seven more patients with Phellik Fever who are close to death in the backroom," the shop owner said. "And another with pence pox and another with dragon's tale. Can you cure them too?" And though the woman's face was severe and cold, and her question sounded more like a demand than a plea, Selene found herself nodding.

"Show me the way."

~*~ discidum ~*~

"You've got be fucking kidding me." It was past midnight and she had finally found the entrance to Keir's bedroom. They lived in the same palace, after all, just in separate wings. But after spending nearly the entire day hovering around half-alive citizens, faeries who might as well have been corpses, did she have a burning fire blazing inside of her. She would kill him, she would kill him with her bare hands.

If it weren't for that his fiancée answered the door.

She was young, almost as young and her, with pale blonde hair and a mousy face. She was so, so small, but not in the way that Selene was. Selene still had muscle, meat on her body. This woman looked like she hadn't ate in weeks.

"Lady Selene," the woman whispered in response, her eyes bulging a bit. Selene's nose flared as her eyes narrowed on the woman.

"I need medicine," Selene demanded. "And don't tell me you don't have it – I know you and Keir have been stocking it. How can you even live with yourselves? It's absolutely disgusting." Confusion washed over the opposite woman's face.

"Medicine," the woman repeated, as if it was a word that had never been spoken. "We've never had medicine here. We've never-" And then a cold sliver pressed against Selene's throat. Selene tripped back, tumbling against a towering figure behind her. She yelped, stepping on the figures toes, but then she felt a tight pair of hands steady her up. The coldness of the figures hands made her flinch. But the cold sliver against her throat, a knife, made her catch her breath.

"Lady Selene," a familiar voice growled, "I gave you your own wing for a reason." _Keir_. His fiancée, who was still facing her, cowered closer into the room. She looked terrified. But Selene straightened. Her teeth barred.

"You would cut my throat, Keir? Don't forget who I am. My husband-"

"I don't see your husband down here, Lady Selene. I would have months, in the very least, to create an elaborate story on how you killed yourself," Keir hissed in her ear. "Or maybe I'll tell him the truth about your gluttony and he won't blame me at all." She swallowed. Tobias would never want her dead, he'd kill every last soul in this place if she didn't leave the Court of Nightmares alive, but Keir was correct on the fact that Tobias wouldn't want her going around him.

"I'll take that as a no," Keir chuckled. He dropped the knife from her throat and she whirled around quickly.

"Those people are dying," Selene said, her voice barely a whisper. "And you still laugh?" Keir shook his head with a smile.

"My people have been dying this rapidly since the first High Lord left the Court of Nightmares," Keir hissed back. "We can't just sit around and mope forever, can we?" Her lips pursed together tightly, glowering at him.

"You saved those people?" Keir asked, savoring the silence. Clearly, he had already heard what she had done. "You walked into that shop and intervened." He said it like was a crime. Like helping his people, saving them, was a violation of law. As if Selene had done a bad thing.

"They were-"

"Don't mistake our hospitality as an opportunity to reign," Keir said, his voice thin. Selene gaped.

"Would you have rather me not save my people?" Selene blabbered. The anger that had boiling underneath Keir's tone flashed across his face.

"Your people?" Keir mimicked, louder now. " _Your people_? Audacious, you are. Tell me, when is the last time your beloved husband stepped foot under the mountain? When did he suddenly have an interest in the health of the Court of Nightmares?" She blinked at him.

"This is his land," Selene replied. "His rule, his law, his people. They-" Suddenly, he struck her with the back of his hand. She stumbled back against the doorframe, inhaling raggedly. Her hand flew to her face protectively as she looked up at Keir in horror.

"You are not his proxy," Keir said, before she could speak. "You are nothing but the High Lord's new breeder and I will not tolerate disobedience. If he wants something from me, he will come down here and demand it. In the meantime, I will not answer to his child-bride." She had to fight for the tears not to form. She hadn't been hit like that since...since she lived in her village. She wanted to rush to Tobias, to tell of Keir's crimes, to burn this entire place to the ground.

But she knew that Tobias would only bestow fury, and it would only distract him from other issues that he needed to fix. He sent her down here so that she would be invisible, not to cause other issues.

"I'm…" Selene nearly flinched at the word. "My apologies. I should have asked for permission. I have the skills to help, and I would want to. Under your permission, of course." Keir's eyes narrowed on her for a moment, the anger on his face slowly dissolving. He hadn't expected her apology, nor wanted for her to ask permission to help. She could tell that he expected her to walk away, not play his games.

"We have laws," Keir replied. Selene nodded. Her mouth felt like lead.

"And I'm willing to obey," Selene agreed. "If you allow me to help them. I will do so under strict guideline, never surpassing your word." Because these people were dying, and she wouldn't let Keir's manhood be the reason that these people died.

"Please," she heard herself say. Though she was earnest, she felt like she was speaking to a brick wall. "Let me help. Wouldn't it be better for you to use my skills, rather than let me waste away in this palace?" Finally, Keir blinked. He was considering it. Despite the fact that she, an outsider, had crossed the line, he was still considering it.

"I can't have one of _your kind_ running around, pretending to be a healer," Keir gruffed, eyeing her tucked in wings. "People will riot." She shook her head.

"An assistant," Selene clarified, ignoring his comment. "Assign me to Maddox. She knows more than she thinks. We'll open a small clinic in her shop." He was quiet for a moment. His eyes ran down her again, noting every detail; from the dirt from her boots to the threads sticking out of the seams of her dress.

"Fine," he said finally. She felt a relief fill her body. "You start tomorrow. But, there is a catch." His dull face held a smirk. Her body slumped forward.

"And what," she said slowly, "would that be?" His smirk widened.

"A favor, Lady Selene," Keir said. "I'm not telling you what, nor telling you when, but one day I'll ask something from you…and because I am helping you now, you will help me then."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Six days. It had been six days in the Night Court, and eighteen days in the Court of Nightmares, since she had mailed her fourth letter. Asking, begging, for Tobias to send medicine. It wasn't that difficult – he could probably find everything she needed in the garden behind their estate. There were some herbs that she asked for that he could only find in the Illyrian mountains, but she said those weren't entirely needed. All she needed was the basic herbs and weeds. Everything else, she could make. Of course, she never told him why she would need such things.

The Illyrian mountains were scarce. Despite the climate differences, they didn't have much more herbs than the Court of Nightmares did. The Court of Nightmares had found a way to create some of their own herbs, but she found that she was looking for substitutes for the same exact herbs as she was in the mountains. Most high-end healers would've scoffed at her for settling for substitutes. Of course, none of her substitutes would work perfectly. They still caused side-effects and didn't always cure things properly. But she knew that there were minerals in rocks that when mixed with strong liquids, can make anything. She knew that there were specific body parts in animals that could help someone tremendously. She was no healer, but she knew how to survive.

Behind her, she heard a pair of boots approach her, scuffing against the hard clay.

"I'm almost done with a mixture. It should help Ria's pregnancy," Selene projected. "If it works, I'll show you how to make it." And then the person let out a low laugh. Quickly, Selene spun around, meeting eyes and her face slowly darkening.

"Oh, Jameson, it's you," Selene muttered. "I thought it was Maddox." Jameson's eyebrows rose up.

"Nice shop," Jameson said, ignoring the distaste in her tone. "I see you've finally blended into our culture." Her lips pursed.

"If that's what you want to believe, Jameson, then sure," Selene replied dryly. She turned back around, grinding a small bone into a lump of soaked petals. She felt Jameson grow closer to her.

"Most healers would've walked away once they found out how many ingredients they lacked. They would've thought they were a lost cause," Jameson's voice lingered. "It seems like you actually care." Selene rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a healer, and I don't care. I'm doing this because Keir and I made a deal," Selene said shortly. "Anyways, it passes the time." On the contrary, it didn't pass the time at all. She still awoke multiple times in the night, hoping that this was all a dream. She still, whenever she heard loud footsteps loom behind her, hoped it was Tobias finally coming to bring her back. She still went to the mail post multiple times a day, awaiting a letter that was yet to arrive. She thought of Tobias at least a hundred times a day, thinking about him with every passing moment. The time wasn't going any faster, she just had something to do while waiting.

"I think they're even starting to like you," Jameson added. Selene let out a mirthless snort. They still called her High Whore. Some even still spat at her when she walked by. Maddox was yet to speak to her in a friendly tone and nobody, not a soul, has thanked her for her deeds.

"What do you need, Jameson?" Selene snapped.

"Just had to see it with my own eyes," Jameson breathed. "What kind of cases have you been dealing with?" Selene's face tightened. She probably shouldn't tell him, she didn't like to gossip, but because he asked nicely…

"So far, this morning? Four pregnancies that are high-risk for miscarriages, two cases of the black perth, and four infected wounds," Selene responded. His eyebrows rose slightly, as if he was actually mildly interested.

"You actually know how to do…this stuff?" Jameson asked. He didn't mean it as an insult, he truly sounded impressed. "Did Tobias know that you knew how to do it?" She swallowed.

"I assume so," she responded, her voice emotionless. "He knew I was into herbs and remedies. I'm not sure if he knew to what extent, though. It wasn't ever relevant." Jameson gave a low snort.

"Or maybe you just didn't want him to know," Jameson responded. "Us Illyrians…we wouldn't want to give anyone the hint that we're low-borne." But she had never pretended she wasn't low-borne. It wasn't something she was proud of, nor something that she paraded. But it was never a secret.

"Don't you have a job to attend to?" Selene asked coolly. "Like, an _actual_ job?" She knew he was popular, but what role did he actually play?

"Yes, I do, actually," he replied surly. "And, if you're truly curious, you can meet my…co-workers." She blinked at him.

"They don't seem to like me that much," she replied. "I'm not sure if you'd really get anything out of it." He leaned closer to her, his body groaning against the crooked table where all her medical supplies were. She was tempted to yell at him to go away, but he was inches from her. Their hands were nearly touching.

"Rosalie eats with us," he said. He smelled like grass. Green, lively grass. He must have his own way of leaving this hell hole. She tried to push down the feeling of envy in her stomach.

"Rosalie can roam where she wishes," Selene said, avoiding his gaze. In the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a smirk.

"And you can't?" He asked. She was quiet. "Look, what do you have to lose? Despite the rumors, none of us bite. The food is actually pretty decent, if I say so myself. Maddox's sister is in charge of the Great Hall food. And you don't even need to leave the palace." She looked up at him finally. His eyes were holding onto hers pleadingly.

"Why do you want me to go so bad?" She asked, her voice quiet. "You know I don't want to."  
"Because I like you, Selene," he replied bluntly – too bluntly. "Because I think, deep down, you like this place too, even if you won't admit it. I think my co-workers will like you, despite their distaste for everything that is above the mountain. And I think you owe that baby some happiness, whether you think you deserve it or not." She glanced down. The bump hadn't grown any bigger, but she felt the weight of her baby inside of her. Though it didn't show, she felt the baby there more and more each day.

She looked up at Jameson, holding his gaze in distaste.

"If I have time," she said. "Maddox is running me ragged. I have a lot to do before I go to sleep."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Only an hour later, Maddox had reached her point of patience.

"Go home," Maddox said. Her face was sharp, but she didn't seem unusually angry. "This place is starting to smell." Not of odor, Selene wanted to say. Of her.

"I'm pretty sure me being the High Lord's wife doesn't make-"

"Be back tomorrow at eight o'clock, sharp," Maddox continued, as if Selene hadn't spoken at all. "And tell that other whore to get away from my son." Selene's eyebrows rose upward. Clearly, she was speaking of Rosalie. To be fair, Selene had only seen her a handful of times since she started working here, and usually their conversations only lasted a few words. Rosalie hadn't even been spending the night in her room. She was constantly elsewhere, and Selene was too nervous to ask.

"I have fifteen more patients left to be seen, Maddox," Selene insisted. "Please, let me-" Maddox's eyes narrowed on her.

"Go," Maddox insisted. This time, it was a demand. "Before I replace you with someone more competent." Selene was tempted to tell her that nobody else was more competent than her – not even Maddox. Even though the mountain was still a dump, people seemed…livelier. She noticed that people conversed more with one another, and she almost saw someone smile on her way into the shop that morning. It was different, like she was truly impacting their city.

But Selene left without another word. The walk back wasn't long, but as she stepped around filthy puddles and homeless fae that littered the street, she kept herself alert. Any of these people, any one of them, could jump her and kill her at any time and nobody would try to save her. Tobias had told her she would not need an escort, but she also wasn't supposed to leave the castle at all. She didn't want to get used to her stay here – she wanted to continue being disgusted by the city, to resent and pity their lifestyle. But even after two weeks, she couldn't help but feel like it was her job to help them. They were no different than her.

When she made it to her room, her bedroom door was opened wide. She stopped suddenly, her heart beat thumping loudly in her ear as she stopped in her tracks. Her bedroom was never left open. But when she looked side to side, and listened to the silence, she stepped inside the bedroom timidly.

Everything was still the same – Nobody was lingering in her room and nothing appeared to be touched or tampered with. Since the first day, she decided to keep the room as clean as possible, so that if someone came into her room and went through her stuff, she would notice. But nothing was out of place. It was still clean.

Except there was a dress. A…beautiful dress, laying flat on her bed. It was a crimson red, cut from ragged cloth. Though the cloth was of poor quality, the cut was exquisite. It was perfectly seamed, and the angles of the dress were defined and well-shaped. On top was a note.

 _We'll be in the Great Halll._

Jameson. Jameson had left the dress. She glanced out the window, looking at the darkening city. Though they didn't have the sun, the city would dim its lights during the night just so that they could have a good time schedule. She knew, just by how dim the lights were, that it was time for dinner. Surely, she should just wait for the maid to come by and drop off her plate, but the dress…

It had been so long since she made something beautiful out of something ugly. She didn't have beautiful cloth in her village, but she knew how to make a beautiful dress. She knew what good, careful sewing, cutting, and shaping looked like, and this dress was magnificent. It must have taken hours, maybe full days, to make such a careful, flawless dress.

She wouldn't let it go to waste. Without thinking about it, she stripped down, swapping her stained clothes for the new dress. It slipped on her perfectly, fitting her slim body as if it was specifically made for her.

When she made it the Great Hall, nobody looked at her. She went straight to the head table. To her surprise, there was a spot waiting right next to Jameson. Everybody at the head table looked up at her, some in delight and others in anger.

"What is she doing here?" Keir sneered at Jameson. "I didn't-"

"You'll be fine," Jameson hissed at him. Jameson smiled at her, a genuine smile. "Please, sit next to me." And so she did. Though most people weren't staring at her, she could feel that she had their attention. They were watching her, even if they didn't show it.

"These are all my comrades," Jameson said, motioning to the others at the table. "Ignore their angry faces. I told them you were coming." Selene swallowed. They didn't look happy – most looked angry. But her eyes landed on the lady next to Keir – his fiancée. She looked like someone had drained her of her life. Like she was lifeless.

"It's nice to see you again," Selene said, smiling. His fiancée mustered a smile, but she knew it was forced. Selene looked down at her plate, which was full with food, and went straight for the wine. She couldn't help but continue to glance at her. How could a woman be so lifeless? What did Keir do to her?

"Annemarie," A voice beside her said. Selene turned to her opposite side, meeting eyes with the woman next to her. She seemed much livelier than Keir's fiancée. It nearly took her by surprise.

"Selene," she replied. "Thank you for letting me eat with you." Annemarie's eyes followed Selene's gaze towards Keir's fiancée. She let out a small laugh. Selene, on the other hand, put the wine to her lips in an attempt to escape conversation.

"He gets her during the day," Annemarie said, as if it explained Selene's worry, "But I get her at night." Selene coughed on her wine. Annemarie giggled.

"It's different here, you know," Annemarie continued. Her eyes didn't quite meet her smile as she leaned back in her chair. "We're stuck with one another. We're not allowed to leave. Which means there are no secrets. Everyone knows everything, they just don't say it." Selene put the wine down. In the corner of her eye, Jameson leaned closer. Every hair on her body stood up.

"Is that a threat?" Selene asked quietly. Humor filled Annemarie's eyes as she let out a carefree chuckle.

"No, a relief," Annemarie replied. "People are either going to judge you or they won't. There's no reason trying to dwell on things you can't change. As long as you're quiet about it, nobody will hold it over you." Selene blinked. Her muscles relaxed. She had never thought about it that way. Silence was their savior. Silence was what protected them. They could do whatever they wish, but only silently.

"Except for you," Jameson muttered coolly, eyeing Annemarie. " _You_ have no filter." She avoided his gaze.

"I'm a seer," Annemarie continued. "It's my job. That's my position at this court." Selene's lips twitched down.

"How delightful," Selene responded, and she couldn't hide the annoyance in her voice. Seers would walk into her village all the time, lying to commoners to drain them of their money. Seers were scams, fakes.

"You don't believe me," Annemarie said, a small smile on her face. Selene reflected her smile.

"I believe in free will," Selene replied with a shrug. Annemarie's smile lengthened.

"I have dreams about all these people," Annemarie argued. "Every person that walks in and out of this place. Even you." Selene's smile dropped instantly.

"Oh, do you?" Selene asked. Annemarie nodded. Selene scoffed.

"And what did you dreams say?" She asked. Annemarie straightened.

"Maybe this isn't the time-" James tried interrupting, but Annemarie stopped him.

"Most people have to prepare themselves," Annemarie argued. "But if you really want to know…" Selene's eyebrows rose.

"Your child is a boy," she said simply. Selene smiled.

"On the contrary, multiple healers have said-"

"I saw your son being touched and grasped and fucked by a redheaded lover who didn't look far from _her_ ," she went on silkily. "I see someone with _her_ blood moaning and weeping of lust as your son does every single thing she wishes. I see him being her slave, her item of power." Selene's mouth dried up. She was lying, she was definitely lying. But just the idea that something like that would ever happen to someone…and what was she talking about when she said _her_? It was nonsense, absolutely nonsense.

"How ridiculous," Selene muttered. "Even if I did have a son, no heir to the Night Court would put himself in such a pathetic position." But Annemarie's face didn't phase.

"She's sharing your husband's bed," Annemarie said quietly. Selene saw pure terror in her eyes as she spoke. Desperate, as if she had planned this conversation this entire time. "Why is the woman who shares your son's enemy's blood, fucking your husband? When I saw it, the skies moved. When I saw it, I felt something that was _wrong_ , something shift. Tell me so we can protect our-"

"That's enough," Jameson growled at Annemarie. "There's a time and place for things, Annemarie." Annemarie's face drained and she gave a curt, apologetic nod.

"Oy, ten men in _her_ world were executed today," A man interrupted, speaking of Selene. "Can you tell me why, ole' seer?" He was across from her. Jameson, next to her, sighed. Selene's eyebrows went up as she met eyes with the man. He was beefy – big for someone who lived under the mountain.

"Hold your tongue," Jameson said. "No politics at the table, Rosseur. You know better than that." Rosseur, to her surprise, turned pink. Though his eyes were still cool as they landed on Selene again, he nodded lightly.

"Excuse my tongue, girl, it's hard to not be tempted by a new girl at the table," Rosseur said, winking. Selene's face tightened and her back straightened. He said it as if she was a commoner, not the wife of a High Lord.

"You think you'll dig my secrets out of me simply because I have a vagina, Rosseur?" Selene asked. She felt Jameson let out a breath of relief next to her. Rosseur laughed – actually let out a real laugh.

"It was worth a shot," A man next to him said. Though his eyes looked down at her in dismay, there was a hint of acceptance. "And you seem innocent enough." Selene let out a small laugh.

"How old do I look?" Selene asked. "You people think I'm as young as a child." A smirk grew on his face.

"Twelve," he replied. The beefy man next to her chortled.

"Fourteen," Rosseur guessed. Annemarie shot them both warningly looks.

"Sixteen, easily," Annemarie corrected. She said it as if she was trying to complement her.

"Eighteen," Jameson said. "Tobias wouldn't go so low as to fuck a child." Though the others laughed, Selene looked at him. _Thank you_ , she wanted to say, and he gave her a slight nod that nobody else noticed.

"Why not? I heard marrying off children was the new norm, up there," Rosseur replied. He looked back at her. "Anyways, she seems to be interested in our way of life." His looked down at her carefully. Nobody said a word, nobody did a single thing. Except Jameson.

He put his hand on her leg. Not in protection.

"Go look for something that's not already taken," Jameson said, a cruel smirk on his lips. Selene blushed heavily. She wanted to inch away, but she knew what Jameson was doing. It was all a scheme to protect her from turning into someone's whore. Because these men could ask for anything, and she couldn't stop them from getting it.

The men's smiles immediately dropped.

"Keep her close," Keir muttered. "You wouldn't want her going astray." Jameson's jaw clenched.

"If she goes astray, you'll be the first person I'll go to, Keir," Jameson replied, his voice smooth, but everybody could hear the threats behind his words.

"We aren't going to pay her," Keir replied. His voice was serious. "We know how you believe in…equality with inferior creatures. But the Hewn City does not make exceptions. You do know that, Jameson?" Jameson didn't so much as breathe.

"I didn't ask you to," Jameson said, not skipping a beat. "She's here at leisure." At leisure? That was far from true. Surely, everybody knew that she was pregnant. That wasn't a lie. But at leisure? They must know nothing then. Nothing of the war that was brewing, not that Tobias sent her down for her safety.

Everybody eyebrow's elevated.

"You're either brave or dumb," Rosseur said. "I wonder which." Though his words were soft, casual, there was a severity behind his words. As if he, and everyone else in the court, would work to figure it out.

"As you waste your time trying to figure it out, she'll continue dressing your wounds and saving your lives," Jameson said dryly. "You all should be thanking me. I brought you a savior." Nobody replied at first.

"We didn't ask for one," Keir hissed. But that was the end of it – Jameson had popularity here. When he spoke, people turned their heads. Keir may be the king, but he was not in charge. At least not when Jameson was here.

"And that is enough for tonight," Jameson said loudly, putting his cup down loudly. Keir flinched. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." Keir's face drained.

"Jameson, a circle meeting is far from nece-"

"Come on, Selene," Jameson said, smiling at her. "You look exhausted. Let me walk you back." Unsure what to do, Selene got up and followed him out of the Court of Nightmares. She was silent throughout most of the walk, relishing in Jameson's silence. He didn't speak until he was at her door.

"You did well," Jameson said. "Better than I expected, at least." Her eyebrows knitted down. He was trying to be humorous, but she could only feel offended.

"They didn't like me in the least," Selene argued shrilly. "If you had left me there by myself, I'd probably be dead already." Jameson let out a cold laugh.

"Oh, you'd be far worse than that," Jameson said. Her nose flared. "But…now they know that you aren't weak. That you aren't his pretty little pet. They are probably now wondering why you are here. Now, they're curious." Selene flinched back. An electricity went through her so fast that she nearly tripped over herself.

"That's horrible," Selene breathed. "I don't want them snooping around-"

"Come back tomorrow," Jameson said, drifting away. "I'll have another dress – a new one for you to wear. I have a feeling that they might one day like you." _One day_. And as he disappeared into the darkness, she shook her head in dismay. She would certainly never go back to that dining hall again. They were barbarians – horrible, horrible people. Especially that seer.

But she would. She would go back the following night, and the night after that. Despite their hatred, and her resentment, she would eat with them for however long it took for Tobias to bring her back. After all, it was better than eating alone.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Sorry, no letter today," the carrier grumbled. It took her nearly a week to find the man. He made it a game to avoid her, not unlike most of the city. At this point, she was wondering if the whole city was in on making her life harder.

"Come on, Felix, we need the gillyweed," Selene hissed. "Ten new fae came into Maddox's shop with infected wounds. Hand me the package." The carrier, whose face already had a web of lines from his grumpy facial expressions, fumed.

" _Whores_ ," he muttered, not before turning around and walking away from her. She growled, but there was no point following him. She had written to Tobias that he needed to send the gillyweed directly to her, not through carriers or messengers. The package must have gotten lost on the way to the Hewn City. All of her packages must have gotten lost.

She was dying to go back to the clinic – there were nearly twenty people waiting in line. Most of them layered in injuries from unknown causes. But right when she opened the door this morning, Maddox kicked her out. They had a scene right in front of the clinic, arguing on how it was unproductive to kick out their only healer. Obviously, Maddox didn't take that well.

So she went to go find Rosalie. To be fair, she hadn't seen her in weeks. Rosalie kept saying she was busy, busy with her new life. Apparently, she was a seamstress now. It was hard to believe, but it was true. Selene tried making it a priority to teach Rosalie how to sew professionally so the people of the Hewn City wouldn't chastise her, but apparently Rosalie already had a mentor.

Selene no longer looked around when she walked through the dirty, dark streets. She wasn't fazed by the skeleton-like bodies and the body feces that filled the passageways. She was no longer afraid of the people. Although, they still didn't like her much. But when she made it to the door of the seamstress shop that Rosalie supposedly worked in, Selene hesitated. What if Rosalie had been ignoring her on purpose? She never came by the apartment, and she rarely ate at the Great Hall.

"I'm looking for Rosalie," she said, when she met eyes with the man blocking the doorway. He was a gangster, no doubt. Most shops had gangsters guarding the more expensive shops, just to prevent looting and fights. Though Selene wasn't entirely convinced that it helped.

"And you are?" He asked back. Her eyes narrowed.

"Samuel, I fixed your arm a week ago," Selene said dryly. "You know exactly who I am." He frowned, but then stepped away from the doorway.

"Fine," he muttered. "Go ahead." She rushed around him before he could change his mind and immediately headed for the stairs. The bottom floor was all clothes – some good, most bad. But, she wasn't in the position to judge. After all, she was only a healer.

It was quiet when she finally made it to the top, but when she met eyes with the couple on the top floor, she jumped. Rosalie was certainly there.

"Rosalie!" Selene gasped. There were only two people there – Rosalie and a man Selene was quite familiar with. Lord Duke. Selene jumped from Rosalie, who was fully naked, and Lord Duke, whose pants were off and eyes were wide. Selene's mouth was to the floor.

"You have a seamstress job and you're still doing this?" Selene growled. Lord Duke, though normally rude to Selene, looked desperate as he put his clothes on. Selene glared at him as he went around her swiftly, not meeting eyes. But as soon as he was out of her sight, her eyes narrowed on Rosalie. She didn't even bother to put on her clothes.

"I am absolutely-I am absolutely astonished by your…your…" But Rosalie didn't look like she cared in the littlest. Instead, she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Oh, please," Rosalie drawled. She leaned against one of the windowpanes, picking at her ragged nails. "Spare me the judgement." Selene sputtered.

"Do you have feelings for this man? Rosalie, you are a lesbian!" Selene's voice rose. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"I've been surrounded by men who have raped me and used me and torn me to pieces my entire life," Rosalie said quietly. "Once I met him, I found that it wasn't that I was a lesbian. It was that I hated men. But not him. I don't hate him."

"He's a married man," Selene snarled back. "A married _lord_." The word didn't even make Rosalie flicker. Instead, she continued to pick at her finger nails in a bored manner.

"Who cares?" Rosalie replied. Selene shook her head.

"Who cares? How about every person in this court," Selene said fast. "These people will lynch you the moment he gets bored of you. Don't you want to be accepted here?" Rosalie looked up sharply.

"Oh please, you're the one who was always pushing me to fuck men for power," Rosalie replied harshly. "Or are you now suddenly remorseful for the brutality you put me through?" She straightened suddenly, blinking. It took every nerve in her not to flinch at the words.

" _Brutality_?! We made a deal!" Selene shrilled. "It was for survival. We don't need to survive like that here." Rosalie gave her a cold smirk.

"No, _you_ don't need to survive like that here," Rosalie shot back. "You're flourishing here, aren't you? You finally found your people. Fuck Leon, fuck Tobias-"

"Don't you dare talk about your High Lord like that!"

"You think you're so much better than me, but you are no better," Rosalie continued. "Go on. Go play hero to these people. Don't forget though, that when Tobias drags you back to his court and your visit here is over, you will be nothing. The only thing you'll be is his permissive, little wife." Selene's jaw clenched. She could feel the back of her eyes burning, but her fists balled together tightly.

"And who will you be?" Selene said lowly. Rosalie's face, for just a moment, broke. "Who will you be when Tobias drags you back to his court?" Rosalie snorted.

"He won't drag me back." And she was right. He wouldn't - not unless Selene wanted him to. He could care less about the red-headed whore, and it was only Selene who fought for her survival.

"You seem to be the one in hot water, Selene. Does he even know what you've done?" Rosalie asked, a smirk on her face. Selene wanted to wipe it off with one hand. "Does he know that you built your own family? Created your own little healing shop? Made friends?" Selene's mouth dried up. They were certainly not her friends – not even in the littlest. But Rosalie's eyes were shining.

"What will your precious husband do when you finds out you've made a home here? With his enemies?" Rosalie said with a giggle. Beads of sweat started to form on her hands. "You think he'll want you back? Or your _son_?" Selene's face burned.

"I'm having a daughter," she replied coolly. "Don't come to me when you realized you fucked up." She turned towards the stairs but Rosalie wasn't done yet.

"I hope the General gets you. I heard the General is coming, and you'll be punished." Selene, confused and tired of the argument, left without another word.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"What's your name?" He came to the clinic bleeding. As someone had pulled him into the doorway, demanding her help, it only took her one second to pull him into a cot. His face was covered with blood, along with his arms. His clothes were caked with mud and his eyes were looking around lazily. He looked like he had gone to war. But he wasn't the first to walk into her clinic like this.

"Don't ask," Maddox once told her, the first time someone had walked in like this. "It's not our business what happened to them." Selene always believed that Maddox didn't want any more drama than needed. Maddox was correct – it didn't matter why they were beat up, but only that they needed to fix them.

But her curiosity was growing and growing. They were always children, always just kids. Maybe fourteen to fifteen, but young enough for her to question _why_. She wanted to ask where they came from, and why they had ended up on her doorstep, but she knew that was too much. Even caked with mud, though, she knew that their clothes were better than the citizens under the mountain had. Better fabric, richer material. Too rich to be from Under the Mountain. So how did they come here?  
"Who are you?" the boy asked feebly, his eyes looking over her delicate face. Selene gave him a small smile.

"You're at a clinic," Selene told him. "I'm here to help you. What's your name?" The kid hesitated. He glanced around quickly, trying to take in the scene, but he was still confused.

"John," he breathed. "What's wrong with me? Am I dying?" She pursed her lips. She was hoping that one day one of the patients would accidentally tell her what had happened, but they always had some sort of amnesia.

"No," Selene said. "Some broken bones and some harsh wounds, but nothing that'll kill you." Nothing changed on the boy's face.

"When will I be able to leave?" He asked, his voice cracking. Selene's face hardened.

"Why would you want to leave?" Selene asked. She tried to hide the hunger, the need for the truth in her voice, but it was impossible. "Wouldn't you rather be in my care, safe?" The boy opened his mouth, about to respond, but then she heard someone clear their throat.

Quickly, she swerved around. Even though it wasn't purposefully, she stepped in front of the boy. But when she looked in front of her, she groaned.

"Jameson." He was leaning against one of the tables, smirking at her. She hardly even blinked.

"Well, it's been weeks since the last time I saw you," Selene said, her voice cool. His eyebrows went up.

"Oh, did you miss me?" No, no she did not. But she was more tense when he was gone because he was the last one left, whether she liked it or not, who could protect her down here.

"I was hoping you weren't dead. I like you," Jameson replied. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What do you need?" She asked him. And with that demand, he opened his pockets and dumped the materials onto the table. Her eyes widened.

Minerals. Plants. Remedies. There weren't a lot – only five or six. But it was enough to keep them for atleast another month. And maybe, if they were lucky –

"I know what you're thinking. Maybe we can plant them," Jameson said. "I've been working with our botanist and he thinks, with a bit of luck and a lot of light, we might be able to do so." The Court of Nightmares did have one patch of green, but she assumed that nothing could grow since it was just an open field.

"Really?" Selene asked softly. "You would do that?" Jameson blinked.

"Of course I would," he said. He almost sounded offended. "This place is finally turning into a real city because of your help. We owe you." She swallowed. Nobody thanked her, nobody showed gratitude, so when Jameson did…

"I also have a present," he said, putting his hand in his pocket. "I'm hoping you'll like it." When took his hand out, her face dropped. A small, silver key.

"And what is that?" She asked.

"An apartment," Jameson said. "For you." She stepped back. An apartment? _Here_?

"Why?" She asked. "Tobias gave me a whole palace." Jameson smirked at her.

"Yeah, and that palace is a twenty minute walk on a good day," Jameson reminded her. "Plus, I'm sure you loathe living under the same roof as Keir." She did. Every opportunity he could, he reminded her that she was a guest in his home.

"It's a nice apartment," Jameson went on. "A full kitchen, new furniture, two floors. All for you." Her eyebrows scrunched down, shaking her head.

"Why?" She asked. "What do I owe you?" It was so tempting. Too tempting. Jameson shrugged.

"Nothing. I figured if we all deserved a living space around here, you deserved one too," Jameson replied. "You don't have to move in immediately, but everything there is already in place and the apartment is ready when you are." But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

"I can't take this. He told me-" He. Tobias.

"It's your choice," Jameson said, nodding respectfully. "But, either way, it's yours."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"You're getting bigger." It was a sneer. Another back-handed comment from the lovely Maddox. Selene struggled to not roll her eyes.

"Yes, I am pregnant," Selene said. But she was glad someone finally noticed at least. The pregnancy was going by so slow, so tedious, that it was difficult to notice when she was actually getting bigger.

"You won't be allowed to stop working," Maddox told her coldly. "I don't care if you are giving birth, you will show up to work." Selene's eyebrows rose. Maddox rarely spoke to her about her private life, but when she did it was never positive.

"Of course I will," Selene said. "I would never expect anything less from my favorite boss." Maddox opened her mouth, about to launch a rude comment, when the door opened. Both Selene and Maddox turned around sharply, and immediately Maddox stiffened.

"My lady." That was what they called Keir's fiancee. _Lady_. When they used that word with Selene, it was an insult. But when they said it to Keir's fiancée, it was godly. Selene crossed her arms.

"How can we help?" She asked. There was a cloth wrapped around the woman's head, as if she was trying to avoid citizens noticing her, but her blonde hair stuck out of her turban brightly. Unfortunately, she didn't fool anyone.

"I need to speak to Selene," the lady demanded, glancing around warily. Her eyes fixated on a blood stain on the wall. Behind Selene and Maddox, there was a patient moaning. Maddox took a step towards her.

"I'm sure I can help you, My Lady, if you would-"

"I want Selene." Even Selene stiffened at her tone. With her lips pursed, Maddox walked away from her side, going around Keir's soon-to-be wife. As she exited the doorway, she shot Selene a dark look. If only she knew that Selene didn't want to be stuck with her either.

But here she was, alone with the Lady of the Court of Nightmares. Though Selene ate with them every night, she had rarely spoken to the lady. She knew that she had a female lover, she knew that she was married to Keir, she knew that she absolutely resented him. But she didn't know much else.

"What brings you in today?" Selene said, her voice cool. The Lady took a step towards her.

"Can they hear us?" The lady said, beckoning to the ill behind her. Selene didn't even follow her gaze.

"Yes, but given the circumstances of most of their injuries, I'm sure they don't care," Selene said dryly. The Lady pursed her lips at her.

"I had a predicament, and I don't want anyone to know," the Lady said. Selene nodded.

"And what is it?" She asked. The Lady hesitated. There was confliction on her face, maybe even a bit of fear.

"I think I'm pregnant." It didn't faze her. She could tell that the Lady assumed she would be shocked, maybe delighted, but Selene didn't care much.

"Was the baby conceived under the mountain?" Because that made a difference. If the baby was conceived about the mountain, than the baby would come 27 months from now, but if the baby was conceived –

"Under the mountain," the Lady replied. "Which means I'll only be pregnant for nine months, correct?" Selene nodded slowly.

"So why are you here?" Selene asked. Her voice wasn't merciful. "It seems like you aren't in any pain."

"I want an abortion." Selene blinked. Her cold, hard face broke.

"An abortion? You're Keir's wife. Why don't you just have the baby?" Selene asked.

"I heard you've given women abortions, have you not?" The woman pressed. Selene's lips pursed. She had, she in fact had. She believed everybody had a choice. Nobody should be forced to have a child.

"Yes," Selene said tightly. "And I will give you one if you most desire it. But everyone who has come in here looking for an abortion are usually sixteen-year-old whores living on the street. You have money, you are in good health. You don't exactly fit the stereotype." The woman swallowed. Her face had grown whiter.

"You're a lady too," she said quietly. "You know what it's like. You know what those men do to us." Those men. Tobias and Keir.

"Tobias has never hurt me," Selene argued. There was no sympathy in her voice. "As a pregnant woman, my situation isn't that bad. And I can't imagine yours being bad either." But the Lady shook her head.

"He sent you away," she said. "He loves you and he still sent you away. Keir resents me. What will he do to me when he finds out I'm pregnant?" Selene would assume he'd be happy. Their baby could be an heir. He needs an heir.

"Unless you can…change the gender," the woman said. Selene laughed at this. Laughed at _her_. The woman didn't want to get rid of her child, Selene realized, she just wanted to change the baby's gender.

"Reading on remedies have you?" Selene asked, watching as the woman grew red. "That is a fable. It's what old women tell young mothers to make a few bucks. You can't change the gender. I can test for the gender though." The woman was still as stone for a moment, holding onto Selene's gaze tightly.

"He doesn't want an heir. If the baby is a boy, he will kill him and me," the lady confessed. "He doesn't want someone to compete for his throne." After a moment of silence, Selene nodded. She understood. She understood more than she wanted to admit.

"Okay," she agreed. "Get on the table. If it's a girl, we keep it. If it's a boy, we terminate, My Lady." The woman, for a second, looked like she was going to cry.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "And, Selene…you can call me Allison."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The clinic was overflowing. Half of Maddox's store had to go to waste as they brought in more beds, with only Selene to stabilize them. By now Maddox had caught on to Selene's skills, silently shadowing her at a distance, but she still wasn't good enough. Months and months, and Maddox still wasn't at her level. The work load wasn't impossible, but Selene counted twenty people moaning and crying easily and Maddox could only do so much.

And there was a knock at the door.

"Turn them away," Maddox said coolly, inserting a handmade IV into one of the patient's arms. "We have to start turning them away." Selene swallowed. Most of the individuals didn't have diseases, they were just injured. Surely, they could take one more person.

"Let me at least see," Selene begged, before opening the door and letting out a groan. Jameson was in front of her, his face flushed and his eyes wide. He was panting. She was tempted to slam the door in his face but he looked…like he was dying himself.

"Have you seen what's been going on?" Selene snapped. "We're busy. I don't have time to play games with you. The people in here are dying and multiplying." Jameson nodded urgently. His fingers were shaking.

"You need to take them and go," Jameson said quickly. "Move all of this stuff back so that it's not in the front room." Selene squinted at him.

"What are you talking about? Moving them back isn't going to help anything. I need more help trying to save these people!" Selene snarled. "I don't see Keir handing me any assistants or giving me any-"

"Because he's busy! The General is here!" Selene stopped. She had remembered, remembered as Rosalie told her that the General was coming for her. She said it like it was a threat.

"I don't understand," Selene said. Jameson rolled his eyes.

"It's a higher official. Tobias's Generals sometimes come and drop by for fun little visits," Jameson said, staring down the dirty pathway. "Fuck, I need to go. He's probably around here. And you, you need to get these people out of the front room! And put up a curtain. Tell Maddox to stand guard."

"People are going through treatment! I am not going to-"

"They will die anyways if he sees them!" Jameson said, his teeth clenched. "He's hunting, Selene. He's not here to chitchat or make deals. He's hunting and trying to find some reason to punish us." Selene shook her head. _Hunting_. The word made her skin scrawl.

"That makes no sense," Selene said. "Why would a General come here, out of the blue, just to punish you all? He has better things to do."

"Because someone has to," Jameson replied shortly. "And if they find anything, _anything_ , they can make an excuse to take people, Selene. They can take whatever they want, whether that's jewels or resources or children. And this man is coming. He is coming and he'll hurt us." But Selene wasn't buying it.

"Tobias wouldn't allow that. It's a waste of time. It's a waste of energy. Why-"

" _Because Tobias doesn't care_!" Jameson bursted. "Because he thinks you're safe in your pretty little palace, so you won't be a victim anyways. So he turns his head. He lets the Generals have their fun because he hates the lot of us. He wants to make sure we are too depleted, have too little, to ever rise against him." She blinked at him slowly.

"Jameson, you sound insane." Jameson looked more than insane. He looked delusional, distraught.

"Move the cots to the backroom, Selene."

"Jameson, we can't fit all of the IVs back there! These people are in vulnerable positions. We can't just move them around-"

"Selene, _please_! He'll be going through here any minute and I need to get back to the palace," Jameson pleaded.

"Who told you that?" Selene asked quietly. "How do you know if-"

"Have you not paid any attention?" Jameson hissed. Selene blinked. She had, she tried. But nobody tells her anything. Nobody trusts her.

"There's a circle, Selene," Jameson said quickly. "A circle of the most powerful members below this shitty mountain. A circle of men who deserted their life above the mountain to be here, in Hell. Men of power who sustain the Court of Nightmares abilities because the High Lord will not. That's how I know. _I'm_ one of them." She couldn't argue that. It made sense. She had heard whispers at the dinner table – her first night Jameson spoke to Keir about a circle meeting. But why would this affect her? Who cares?

"I'll be fine," Selene said flatly. She was about to close the door but he grabbed her hand. His fingernails dug into her wrist as she was yanked forward.

"Please, Selene," Jameson said, his voice feeble. "If you care about these people, about anything in this damn place, then hide them." She paused, holding onto his gaze. He had never truly lied to her. Sure, he lived in a careful web of stretched stories, but he never lied about the important things. Because he trusted her. Nobody else under this mountain trusted her, but he did.

"Run," Selene breathed. "I'll protect them." Jameson let out a shaky exhale, nodding as he darted away into the dark shadows. Selene watched him until the silhouette of his body melted into the darkness. Quickly, she turned around. Maddox was cursing behind her, trying to tie a bandage that wasn't aligned correctly.

"Maddox," Selene said, her voice oddly calm, "He's hunting." She stopped immediately, her eyes wide. The sick ones who heard her looked up in unison, like their pain was instantly forgotten.

"He's hunting?" Maddox replied through her clenched teeth. She dropped the wrap. Her eyes darted around, looking at the supplies scattered around, at the overcrowded room of people. For a second, Selene wasn't entirely sure she was breathing. "Tell me how to fix this."

"The backroom," Selene said, nodding. Maddox gave her a slight nod before grabbing the cots and pulling them into the storage area behind the counter. Twenty-two people, Selene counted. Maybe, maybe it would work. And it did. When people heard those words, even if they were half-conscious they arranged themselves closely. Everybody was in quiet terror as Selene directed where to go. As they began to settle, she rushed to the front.

It was a hot mess. Bandages littered the floor, bowls of medicine scattered the counter tops. She grabbed spared blankets and threw it over everything – the tables, the floor, the countertops. She didn't have time to destroy the evidence, she didn't even have time to effectively hide it. But blankets…if someone were come in, and they weren't paying too much attention, they'd be fine.

She was almost done putting a blanket on the front counter when there was a knock on the door. Maddox, who was helping her, froze. Selene nodded at her to go behind the curtain, which separated the shop-area and the storage area where the people were hiding. And again, she felt alone. Alone, and she didn't know who hid behind that door. Who was hunting? And what did that even mean?

She felt her feet walk towards the door, and her face was emotionless when she finally opened it.

He looked like a general. She was half in shock that Jameson was correct, and partially in shock that any sort of general would want to walk through the Court of Nightmares. He was tall, with cropped short hair. His uniform was formal and militaristic. Black with gold lining. She looked at him up and down, and he looked at her.

"And who are you?" She asked, seemingly bored. Honestly, she wasn't that impressed. He looked like the average-day dickhead that Tobias had to tolerate. She wouldn't have recognized him in a line up.

"Lady Selene," the man said. He had originally been leaning on the door frame but once he met eyes with her, and took her in, he stood upward. "People address me as General. Why are you here? Word had it that you were staying in the palace." She didn't even blink at him.

"Word had it," she mimicked, "that there were orders for you lot to leave me alone. Clearly, directions are difficult for the Night Court." He blinked and silently, she cursed herself. She might have been daring when she lived in the Night Court, but she wasn't disrespectful. She would never speak ill of the Night Court. But he took her in now – the Hewn City clothes, the tight braids, the dark make-up.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, and he flashed her a tight smile. "I'm sure your High Lord would disagree with your whereabouts." She pursed her lips.

"It's a studio," she lied. "We haven't gotten the painting supplies yet but it's still an art studio. I doubt the High Lord minds that I have a hobby." His eyes remained on her as he stepped in, causing her to tumble back.

"Really," he purred, pacing as he took in the room. Selene's hand remained on the open door. Everything was so quiet, yet so loud. It would take one sniffle, one groan, for everything to be revealed.

"Why?" Selene asked. "Have you heard word that he wants me to come back?" She found, as she let the words out, that she didn't care. She had sent Tobias hundreds of letters – at this point, she didn't mind the Court of Nightmares. He chose his life and she chose hers.

"He's a bit preoccupied," the General said carefully. "With other people." She swallowed. Other people. That must mean Clythia.

"As am I," Selene said, gesturing downward. The General glanced at her baby bump. One of his bushy eyebrows rose up. "I'm pregnant, you see. And I'm not supposed to spend a lot of time on my feet. Is there something I can do for you?" The General didn't break his gaze.

"Yes, actually," the General said, a small smile curling on his lips. He began to circle her. "Do you know anything of this place? Anything your High Lord might disapprove of?" She swallowed.

"This entire mountain, for one," Selene responded sharply. "But I would suggest starting in Keir's quarters." The General stopped suddenly.

"Oh," the General said. He seemed genuinely shocked that she gave him a response. Clearly, most of the citizens of the Hewn City were willing to lie for their cruel leader.

Selene nodded.

"Yes," Selene said slowly. "I always found him…slimy." The General nodded. She finally took a breath as he began to step towards the door.

"Thank you, Lady Selene. I'll tell your husband you said hello," The general responded. His fingers were on the door knob. "I'm sure-" But then he stopped.

"General?" Selene asked, taking a step forward. "Is there something wrong?" There was certainly something wrong. He was staring at the wall intensely. He let go of the knob, his face growing closer. He touched the wallpaper with his index finger. From where Selene stood, she now saw the wet liquid that had made it to the wall.

"There's blood on the wall," he said aloud, sniffing it. "Why is there blood on the wall?" She crossed her sweaty hands behind her back.

"It's the Court of Nightmares. What else do you thi-" But then he strutted across the room, his face tight as he lingered towards curtain. It was the only thing he hadn't checked, the only thing that could reveal something. He reached up.

"I hope you wouldn't mind if I-" She rushed between him and the curtain, but it was too late – he moved it so fast that it ripped off the rod. He stiffened. She backed closer to the crowd of people as his eyes went over the crowd. Quietly, scarily. Even Maddox seemed terrified. Selene's breath shook.

"What's this?" The General said. Selene bared her teeth at him.

"It doesn't matter what it is. It-"

"Nobody told you that being a healer was illegal in the Hewn City?" He looked down at her. It took him half of a second to figure it out. She was the healer. This wasn't a painting shop – it was a clinic. A clinic for the tortured. _Her_ clinic.

"Tobias gave me permission," Selene said, and for a second she thought he believed it. He relished in the pause. But then he smiled.

"You're a bad liar," he said back. "Your husband may love you but this…this would be an act of treason." She took another step back. Behind her, she heard a whimper.

"What do you want?" Selene hissed.

"This is a good," the general said aloud. "This is better than I expected to find." Selene shook her head. Though she hated it, she was fighting tears.

" _What do you want_?" Selene said louder. "Name it. Name it and I'll give it to you!" And then he looked over her again – at her angelic face, her skinny body, her beautiful hair.

"What if I asked for you, Lady Selene? I'm a General. Surely, you would enjoy indulging in another man. What-" She spat at his feet. He flinched, but it only made him walk closer to her. There was only a foot, maybe two, between them.

"I'm not for sale," Selene said. "And neither are they."

"Why, Lady Selene?" The General asked surly. "It's not like your husband is faithful." Her face burned.

"Just because you go on your knees for him, General, does not mean you know what happens in his personal life," Selene hissed back. "We're are faithful to one another. And he won't question my word when I tell him that you terrorized me." The General laughed, laughed as her body inched closer to the huddled people. She could feel the terror spreading amongst the group.

"Women…" The General said aloud. "So naive…" His eyes were hungry now, looking at the people, the injured, the pregnant women. He looked at them like they were all beautiful presents, all waiting to be opened.

"Don't worry, Lady Selene, I will not hurt your people," The General chortled, as if he could read her thoughts. "But the High Lord will." Her eyes widened. _No_. The General turned away from her, walking away steadily, but she grabbed the knife from the table next to her.

"You will not say a word," Selene growled. He whipped around again, his lips curled upward, but before he understood what was happening, she dug the knife into his stomach. He looked down, his eyes wide. And then he fell to the ground. Everyone was quiet as they watched him bleed out, watched the life drain from his eyes. But she didn't feel guilty. Even if her body was covered with blood, she did not feel guilty.

When she turned around, nobody was sneering at her. Nobody was smirking or scowling or angry. Instead, their faces were slack. Some were even in tears as they looked over her. And then Maddox walked towards her slowly, carefully. Selene took a deep breath, bracing for the impact that Maddox was going to inflict. But then a tear fell down her face.

"Thank you," she whispered.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Her bed was smeared with blood. It had already dried in her hair and her clothes – her clothes were absolutely ruined. She tossed over a gown and her eyes longed out the window, lazily looking at the dim city. It was so much, so much, and she was _so_ tired. The General – he was right. It was treason. It was treason and even though she thought it was good, it was still against the law. And she could live with that, she thought, as her eyes began to close. She could live with breaking the law, committing treason, but only for so long. And she killed a man. She killed a man and didn't even blink. He could have had a family. Tobias was horrible – cruel sometimes, but he had a family. He was good, in some ways. The General was cruel, but maybe there were people who loved him. People she hurt. And maybe the people of the Hewn City would forgive her, but she would never forgive herself.

Just as she was about to fully drift away, her door slammed open. It banged against the wall so hard that she swore part of the door split. She jolted up, looking at the wild figure in front of her. Jameson – and he was covered in blood too. Head-to-toe, as if he had been following her bloody tracks. But his eyes were blazing. Blazing, like a fire that couldn't be contained.

"Jameson," she breathed, but he yanked her out of bed violently, dragging her to her feet.

"You quit? You fucking _quit_?" She felt naked as she backed up against the wall. She practically _was_ naked. All she was wearing was an opaque gown. With the bright candle lights flickering in their hands, she knew they could see everything through the thin material. Any other group of men would have gawked and laughed. Yet, nobody was looking at her body. Instead, Jameson hadn't let go of her eyes. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. The knife, jagged and dirty, was tilted towards her face. He smelled like blood.

"Get off-"

"Since when do you quit?" His eyes were wide, and dark circles shadowed under his bottom eyelids. "I thought you were better than that. Than _this_." Her eyes remained on the knife. She could feel her body shaking against the wooden wall.

"It's none of your business!"

"I _trusted_ you, Selene." She pretended that the word didn't affect her, but even he could tell that she flinched. How could Jameson trust her so easily? What did he even see in her?

"Trusted me? Jameson, this is a short term situation. I can't let these people get attached to me. You don't understand, I am a High Lord's wife. That is all I am. One day, I will have to leave-" He pressed the knife against her throat. It was cold, so very cold.

"Jameson," she whispered. "Please." She could've sworn tears were forming in his eyes.

"These are my people, even if you refuse to admit that they are yours as well, and I will do anything for them," he hissed. "Now, go." He pointed towards the door with the knife. She hesitated, choking as she looked at the large men now guarding the door. They were going to kill her, kill her and her baby.

"Jameson, I'm pregn-"

" _Go_." She walked out of the room with him at her side. His knife was still pointing at her, but she realized, after a few minutes, he had no intention on using it. Whatever happened today with the General, whatever happened to him, clearly didn't rest well. He looked like he had gone to war and was dragged back from the carnage. He looked like a zombie. And she, as she looked at one of the mirrors that they passed, looked like one too.

He directed her down the stairs, and didn't stop until they were two floors below the landing. She could see her own breath as she shivered. Were they going to lock her up? But when Jameson lit a match, twenty people stared back at her. Twenty men, all wounded and cut up and half-dead. Warriors, soldiers. They had been huddling in the basement all this time.

Now she had her answer.

Her hand went to her lips. She thought she was going to be sick. "Cauldron…Jameson, what have you been doing to these people? Where are they coming from-"

"I want you to look at them," Jameson hissed, pointing his dagger at her again. She winced. "Look at them. These people are dying and you are the only person who can save them. Look at them and then tell me that you aren't meant to save their lives. That you aren't the only one capable of doing it." She didn't even blink at him.

"And if I still don't want to? Even if I am the only one?" She asked. His bottom lip trembled.

"Then of course, you're allowed to go," he let out feebly. _But she was his friend_. She saw in his eyes that this wasn't just a disappointment, it was truly a betrayal. This was more than just bodies, then. If it were just bodies that needed to be healed, then they would have forced Selene to just teach someone else and they wouldn't worry about the casualties.

"Every day more come to me," she murmured. "These people aren't from the Court of Nightmares, are they? They-"

"It doesn't matter where they come from," Jameson snapped. "None of it matters. The only thing that matters is that every day, every damn day, I have to pick which man goes next. Every day I have to look at these men and I have to choose which one should be sent to your clinic because if too many showed up, then you'd catch on." Her eyes narrowed.

"And now? Now that I know you've be smuggling people into the Court of Nightmares?" She demanded. "Smuggling _children_." They were in fact children, whether Jameson would admit it or not. None of them surpassed the age of sixteen and they all looked terrified. They were just kids, kids praying not to die.

"Don't judge me for things you don't understand," Jameson said. She shook her head.

"Where do these kids come from?" She asked, looking him up and down now. Trying to figure out what kind of man she had been conversing with for months. "Why are they stuck in a basement, Jameson?" He was quiet for a moment.

"It's complicated," he said simply. She let out a mirthless chuckle.

"Bullshit," she spat. "I'm tired of the lies and manipulation in the Hewn City. I can't save these people. I can't be a part of _this_. I was supposed to wait out my sentence, and look at me. I'm here, playing around with you. Can't you see why I can't do this anymore?"

"You can," Jameson said, pressing the knife so deep to her throat that it began to pierce her. "And you will not tell your husband. You will not tell anyone. Just like we do not tell your secrets, Selene." A secret for a secret. That was how someone survived in the Night Court, and she had managed to do it. It wasn't difficult to hold his gaze. His eyes were…wild. Not cold, rotten anger like Tobias had, but bright sadness. Chaos.

"What about my life? Have I lost that too?" She hissed. "What happens, Jameson? What happens when Tobias summons me back to his court? Is being pregnant not a big enough sign to know that this isn't going to work forever?" As Jameson dropped the knife to his side and took a small step back, he held her gaze tightly.

"These people are depending on you," Jameson answered weakly. "You have to, Selene. You are the last one we have left. I know you want to do this. For once, you look alive. The only reason you're afraid to keep doing this is because you're afraid of what Tobias may do in retaliation. And as long as you have that fear, I won't let you give up." Desperation, it was pure desperation that he pulled her away from her quarters in the middle of the night. Maybe resentment too. Resentment of her privilege. Not just as a wife to a High Lord, but her village gave her shelter. Warmth. Despite their cruelty, they had a system. A code of living that protected their people.

Jameson had turned around, whispering something to the men, but Selene spoke before he could fully leave. "I want a seat." He paused. He didn't turn around fully, but he shifted his body far enough to meet eyes with her.

"A seat?" She nodded at him. Her fingers were clammy with sweat but, luckily, he didn't notice.

"At the table," she said. "If I'm doing this for you, if I'm lying to my husband, I want a seat." Her mouth had dried up fully now. Surely, he wouldn't do it. She wasn't good enough, she wasn't important enough.

"Fine. Our meeting is at dawn," he said. And as he walked away, and she stood in shock, she could've sworn there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

~*~ discidium ~*~

She managed to wash herself before then. She laid awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, recounting the terrified eyes that had stared back at her when Jameson dragged her into the basement. Haunted by the fact that Jameson not only put a knife to her neck, but also the fact that she was his only hope. _Her_. An 18-year-old, pregnant, child-bride.

But she was fearless as Jameson met her at her room and escorted her to a door on the opposite wing. It looked like a normal room from the outside – no different than her own bedroom, but when he opened the room, she realized it was far different. It was huge, bigger than Tobias's conference room, with large, golden chairs faced in a circle. There were golden-red fires that touched the ceiling on each corner of the room. And a small bowl that all the chairs centered around. She could easily lift it in one hand, nothing more than a bowl used for soup. It was made out of blue glass, but as she grew closer she realized how truly beautiful it was. The mesmerizing liquid looks like bursts of ink swimming in water.

"What's that?" Selene asked. Jameson's eyes flickered to the bowl. She didn't know how many times he had seen it, but she could tell that he was still mesmerized by its beauty.

"If everything burns to hell," Jameson said, "that's our last resort." She stiffened. What could a bowl do that makes it a last resort? But Jameson didn't want to tell her, she could tell, and she wondered if she even wanted to know.

"What's she doing here?" A voice sneered. She looked up. It was Keir. Most of everybody was already taking their seat, but Keir – Keir had jumped up.

"In turn for serving us, she will have a chair in the circle," Jameson said calmly. Immediately, a buzz of whispers went through the room. Keir went to his feet instantly.

"She will _not_!" Keir spat. "Her being here is a complete hazard to our court. How could you even commit such treachery? You should be ashamed of yourself, Jameson." Jameson, on the other hand, didn't look ashamed at all.

Instead, he scowled, "Oh, don't get your panties in a knot, Keir. What could go wrong?" Keir stammered stupidly.

"She-she could tell Tobias, that's what!" Keir growled. She couldn't help but blink in surprise. She hadn't expected Keir to know his name, let alone say it.

"No, she won't," Jameson said, his eyes on her hard now. She blinked again, her face heating as they all looked towards her.

"I-I won't," she stammered to Keir. "I won't tell him." She told herself it was for the greater good – being here, being able to hear about the Court of Nightmares' plans, was more important than her honesty with Tobias. Even Jameson couldn't help but look surprised, though Keir's face didn't change in the least.

"We can't have her here," Keir said, in a low hiss. "Look at her." Jameson took a step towards Keir, a small step. Keir stumbled back, taking in a harsh breath as he held onto Jameson's deathly glare.

"You think those people accept her? _You_ look at her, Keir," Jameson growled. "Look at her. She bears wings. She is an outcast, just like us. She's knocked up with Tobias's child, and where does he send her? Far, far away. She is not one of them." It was then that she realized that Keir's loatheness towards her wasn't about her being an Illyrian near as much as it was about being one of Tobias's people. One of _them,_ an elite above the mountain. Keir was quiet for a moment, as if agreeing that Jameson's words were correct.

"She is still a woman," Keir grunted irritably. "An Illyrian woman." Jameson's cruel face broke, letting out a snort.

"She certainly is," Jameson agreed. "And if you have an issue with that, you can leave my circle. As can the rest of you." His eyes went across each and every person, all of them deeply uncomfortable. To her surprise, nobody objected. Though Keir's face was red with fury, he sat down in his seat with a thud.

"Sit," Jameson gestured, waving towards the empty chair next to him. He seemed tired already. "Let's speak." At first, she didn't learn much. There was still a deprivation of food supply, the medical services were causing an increase in the economy due to an increase in active population but also caused the need for more resources, and there was an argument on whether the only greenery patch in the Night Court should be turned into a full garden so that she could use the plants as medicine for others.

"We can all agree that it would be foolish to do otherwise," one of them gruffed. "And I think it's time we get down to more…controversial matters." His eyes landed on her testily, as if he was trying to analyze how honest she truly was. It was plain that none of them trusted her, and she didn't trust them, but someone had to take the first step to diplomacy.

"You mean about the teenagers dying in the basement?" Selene drawled impatiently. "Because that is certainly something we should speak about." Keir had a small smile on his face while others shifted uncomfortably. They didn't trust her, they didn't trust her at all. And she didn't trust them.

"And you have experience in the matter, Lady Selene?" Keir asked. "I didn't know Tobias's armed race was dying miserably. Please tell us more about how you are even half-qualified to speak on such things." She didn't even blink at him.

"Selene," she responded slowly. "You can call me Selene. And no, Keir. The Illyrians do not live in such bad conditions, but that's because we persevere." Instantly, the room changed. Instead of the tense, hesitant voices, the men bursted altogether.

"You think we are too weak to help ourselves?" One of the spat instantly. His face was red. "Is that it, Lady Selene? That your people don't have to deal with this because you're stronger?" Her face paled.

"I'm just saying-"

"She's just saying that her husband cares about them more, that's all," Keir said dryly. Jameson's body tilted in her direction. "That they are more useful to him. That we are just collateral damage." She sat closer to the end of her chair.

"Yes," she said sharply. "I am. I'm not saying it's right – I'm not saying I agree. But the Illyrians were taught how to persevere, while you all weren't. We go through the same issues, yet we survive. We learn. We teach. We tell our daughters how to make a medicine that will cure the flu, we teach our men how to hunt and gain as much wealth as possible. Our elders defend us, and the High Lord supplies us with resources when needed because having a coup would be devastating for him." It was all power. All crazy, unbalanced power. And fear, lots of fear.

"And how are we supposed to do that, Lady Selene?" Keir hissed. "Your High Lord treats us like scum." She swallowed.

"We divert," Selene said. "We stop pretending that he may help us. We stop waiting for his permission to do something, and we fight. We teach our women how to make medication, we teach our boys job skills. It won't be fast, it won't be fun, but within a generation, this place…this place will be a real city." It was easier said than done. Far easier. It would take time, and twice the amount of work than the Hewn City would normally put into anything.

"You can't possibly believe that with current global tensions, that this is plausible," Keir said. Jameson's eyes were on her carefully.

"Tobias is so fixated on Clythia right now that he wouldn't even notice," Selene admitted. "Unless she plans on attacking the Hewn City-"

"Careful," a quieter man said. His voice was like venom. "Despite popular belief, the Hewn City is precious, Lady Selene. There are plenty of reasons why someone would want it." It was a possibility. A very small possibility.

"Then send out spies," Selene said. "Our most trustworthy men. Men who we know can get out of the mountain without being detected and will for sure come back, and tell them to keep track of Clythia's whereabouts." A man scoffed.

"Why can't you just ask your beloved husband?" The man sneered. "Surely, that's not that hard." Her fingers clutched the arm rest. It was over three-hundred letters now that she has sent him. She stopped trying weeks ago, and she knew she had to stop. To stop waiting, to stop thinking, to stop believing that she wasn't going to die here.

"Because he has no idea what he's doing," Selene said, her voice but a whisper. "He doesn't know his enemy, I'm not even sure if he understands her fully. He's reaching out into the darkness and not using logic to make choices. He would not be helpful. This is what I'm saying…we need to become independent." Jameson's eyes…she refused to look at him, but she knew he still hadn't looked away. There was no way she could meet his eyes now – she knew what he was thinking. She wasn't against Tobias's choices, she backed up every single one of his, but, what if there was a way for the Hewn City to survive without him? Wouldn't it be easier…for him?

"And what about the men in the basement?" Keir crooned, his eyebrows rising. "You can't possibly believe-"

"Send them all to my clinic tomorrow morning," Selene said with a sigh. "Afterword, we'll bring them back to their mothers'. I'm sure they're waiting for them." But when she looked at the people around her, they looked stricken. Even disgusted.

"They have endured enough, don't you think?" The quiet man replied sharply. Selene's face slackened. "They came to the Hewn City for refuge. Not many have the nerve to do that." She lurched forward.

"These men are illegal immigrants?" She said, louder this time. Keir's upper lip curled up. "Keir, if we're to get this place settled, we need population control. We-"

"I think it's time we take a break," Jameson interrupted. "Dillon, try to arrange some spies. Tell them to get all the information they can find within a week so that we can get this project started. Selene – stay back." When the rest of the men rose, and her mouth opened to object, she noticed how the men sneered at her. Clearly, she had said something. Something awful.

It wasn't until all of the men had disappeared, and the door slammed shut, did she speak.

"You're smuggling in illegal immigrants?" She snarled. But his face was as hard as stone. Clearly, this wasn't something she could argue.

"They're not just illegal immigrants," he said coolly. "They've done a great deal for us." She let out a low, mirthless laugh.

"What? Used up our resources? Cut themselves up so that I can waste my only medicine, which could go to legal citizens, on them?" Selene demanded. "You've lost your mind." Jameson jumped out of his chair jerkily. Reflexively, so did Selene.

"These are not just teenager boys!" Jameson's voice rose. "These are victims. Victims of the sins of your husband's Court." She rolled her eyes.

"We have an official illegal immigrant process," she snapped back. "They can get in line just like the rest of them." His eyes narrowed on her.

"That's what they're hiding from. Don't you get it?" Jameson said back, mockingly. At first, she didn't. How could people fear the Night Court so much that they'd bother hiding in the Hewn City? But then she remembered how she met Jameson, why he had tried so hard to get close to her, why he was so earnest for her to adapt into the Hewn City. This was his world, this was his army. He was not a patriot of the Night Court by any means.

"You've been bringing me refugees and revolutionary soldiers after all this time?" Selene shrilled. "I am not a revolutionary, Jameson. I am not a part of your double agenda! If you-"

"These people are dying," Jameson replied sharply. "Dying, everywhere. In the mountains, in the Court of Nightmares, in the crevasses and forgotten hills of the Night Court. They are being slaughtered and beat and tortured by Night Court military. The indigenous is now a minority. So, I'm not going to apologize, Selene. Those people are withering away and I'll sacrifice any person in my path to get them to safety. Even _you_." Selene blinked.

"Devlon would've said that," Selene said aloud, her voice barely a whisper. "He'd feed me to the wolves to save his people. He'd beg me to feed _him_ to the wolves to save his people. And look where he is now. This court doesn't have time for damn vigilantes, Jameson." Jameson shook his head lightly.

"You've saved forty-three children," Jameson said slowly. "John was a fifteen-year-old boy who was kidnapped at thirteen-years-old by the Night Court military. He ran away from his camp and switched sides. To our side." Our side. He didn't just mean him and the rest of the Court of Nightmares, he meant him and her. Her side.

"Don't talk to me like we're allies."  
"You killed one of the Night Court's generals. What, do you regret that?" She paused at this.

"He was a disgrace-"

"Was he? I heard he won several medals, given by your High Lord personally."

"Tobias was mistaken."

"Tobias sent him here." She inhaled sharply. She could've sworn that Jameson flinched a bit as well, as if he regretted saying it as soon as it was let out. Almost as if he too knew it was too much.

"He sent him here?" Selene asked quietly. "He must have had a reason-"

"Someone tipped him off," Jameson interrupted. "But who the fuck cares why Tobias sent him down here? It doesn't erase what happened." And as he walked away from her, slamming the door shut, he was right, she realized. It didn't erase anything.

~*~ discidum ~*~

"I need you." It was only three words, but when Selene swung around to meet Jameson's eyes, she hesitated. She had finally convinced Keir to pay Maddox for her assistance in the medical clinical so that Maddox could, instead of having half of a store and half of a clinic in her shop, could use the full shop as a health clinic. It could fit twenty, maybe thirty more people and, due to Selene's diligence, Maddox made more money than she had ever made before. Selene was still on a stipend given by her husband, which was more than enough to last her eighteen months, so she let Maddox have her salary as well. The impact that the money caused was enormous. It allowed them to hire assistants, to take in my patients, to devote more money into the large garden that was developing on the greenery.

So when Selene turned around coolly, and met Jameson's eyes, she wasn't lying when she said, "I'm busy." Since their argument, that hadn't spoken outside of their meetings. But, when she looked at his solemn face, she couldn't help but feel solemn as well.

"What's going on?" She asked with a defeated sigh. Jameson's jaw tensed.

"It's an emergency meeting," Jameson said quietly. "Our spy has arrived." Finally. It had been weeks since they sent him off, far more overdue than the week-deadline that they had initially given him.

Her eyes narrowed.

"This is the…shadowsinger?" She said, her voice barely a whisper. She had heard of shadowsingers, but she had never met one upfront. Jameson nodded.

"This meeting is starting now," Jameson informed her. His words were soft. "So if you could…?" She nodded.

"Let me go tell one of the assistants that I am leaving," Selene said. Within half a minute, she was back at Jameson's side. They walked quietly at first, barely even breathing.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I'm sorry for-for lying about the refugees." She almost tripped when she heard the word. Her eyes darted at him, finally looking at his face. He did look awful. His skin had looked awfully white lately, bags surrounded his eyes, his body weight had decreased.

"Don't be," Selene responded. "You did what you thought was right." And she admired it. Despite her coldness to him, her need to ignore him, she admired his bravery. It was far more bravery than she had.

"Well, since we're over that," Jameson said, a small smile on his face. "I think we should talk about the emergency meeting before we go in." Her eyebrows perked up. They were only a few feet away from the door now.

"Did they find something on Clythia?" Selene asked. Jameson hesitated.

"Yes," Jameson said carefully. "And Tobias." Selene's eyebrows rose up further.

"What about-" Jameson opened the door. In front of her was a man, wiry and thin, holding up what looked like a cloud of smoke. No, it was a cloud of shadows, she realized. Shadows of shapes and sizes and…as she looked closer, people. And as she looked, she saw more and more detail.

"Shit," Jameson hissed. "I didn't want you to hear about it like thi-" One of the figures was Tobias. She was still as stone as she watched the image play, like a memory, of Tobias…touching another woman. Kissing another woman. Rolling in the sheets that she had slithered into a million times, naked and urgently and without hesitation. His face was blank, like a robot, no emotion was evident, but the girl…

"Clythia," she blurted. "That's-That's Clythia." She hadn't realized that the rest of the room was full of the other men already waiting for her.

"That is all we need for verification of her presence," one of the men said at a distance. He was speaking to Jameson. "He is sleeping with the enemy." Sleeping was an understatement. Sleeping was just one word, and one word couldn't describe the pain of this infidelity. That he, her own mate, wanted to touch this woman. To sleep with woman. After telling her he wasn't interested, after sacrificing everything.

"That makes no sense," Selene breathed. She sat in one of the chairs, watching the memory replay. Her eyes shuttered. "Why would he…?" Jameson's eyes were cold as night.

"Power," he guessed. "Don't take it personally, Selene. He doesn't love her – he probably hates her. He's doing it because getting closer to her helps him." Her fingers were shaking. Her breath…she felt like oxygen wasn't even going into her lungs. He sent her away, he sent her away and now-

"Protection," one of the men argued, mulling over the options. "Definitely protection from Hybern. How close are her units to our mountain?" Because that's all that mattered to the Hewn City, apparently. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Illyrians and _their_ mountains, the one's closest to Clythia's wrath. Screw their neighboring courts, their common people.

"Far enough away that Tobias wouldn't think about it," Jameson said, his voice soft. "I don't think he has any intention on bargaining with her over the Court of Nightmares. He'd be too busy wondering why she'd want it." Did he even remember her? Did he forget that she was alive, that he had sent her down here, that she was carrying his child?

"Selene, what's your insight? You met the woman," she heard Jameson say, but her mind was a thousand miles away.

"Selene," Jameson said again. "Selene!" Finally, she looked at him. She looked at all of them. Some were snickering, as if they detected her weakness, Jameson's face was tense. They were expecting her to snap, to burst into tears. To show them how weak she truly was.

"I think…I think…" Did he love Clythia? No, not at all. Was he attracted to her? Certainly. But did he want her near his resources, near his people? No. "I think he's doing it because he's afraid." Her mouth felt as dry as a desert. She had never expected herself to exploit Tobias's vulnerabilities. But, now, she didn't feel guilty.

"What do you mean?" Jameson asked.

"She wants him," Selene said. "And not…not like as a couple. She's infatuated with his power. And she wants it. She wants his court, his resources. He's probably just giving her a taste of it as he considers what to do. She knows so much about this court, and has the military ability to take over, that he will have to kill her carefully. She has to die or she will take everything from him. She won't ever stop." Jameson leaned back in his chair, nodding.

"That's clever," he said, almost to himself. "Most men would never think of that. Most men wouldn't even be able to stomach that." Yes, Tobias was thinking like a woman. Using sex as a weapon. It worked for Rosalie – it worked for Selene.

"But he's wrong," Selene said. "Clythia already knows everything about the Night Court." _Except Velaris. Except for the most important thing_. "She knows this city has been alive for over a millennia. This is possibly the oldest city in Prythian. If she is going to take it over, why wouldn't she do it from the inside out?" Many of the men around the table stiffened.

"So as Tobias is trying to fuck the information out of her," Jameson repeated, "she's been trying to get into the Court of Nightmares to try to take over. And Tobias has been too stupid to realize it. She'll probably attack soon, so that once he realizes what's going on, it'll be too late to stop it." Selene nodded solemnly.

"We need to tell him," Selene said. But it would just be another letter, she thought. Another letter that would either be unread or unanswered. A letter that meant nothing, _nothing_ to the High Lord of the Night Court.

"No," Selene corrected herself. "No, we do not tell him a thing. This is our problem. Our battle." She looked up at Jameson, whose eyes were searching her face frantically. Trying to figure out what she was thinking, and how far was she willing to go. But the Lady of the Night Court was dead. Dead to him, dead to everybody. As long as she stayed in the Hewn City, resting on her chair, the Lady of the Night Court was long gone and Selene had no intention on bringing her back.

Jameson swung his head toward Keir.

"Put flanks around the perimeter and make sure every person in this city has a weapon – I don't care if it's a stick or a sword. And you," Jameson said, staring at Selene. "Gather as much medical supplies as possible. Increase the clinic size if you can. We have days, at most."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Two months," Allison said quietly. Her pregnancy had already been announced but here, in the middle of the Great Hall, she spoke quietly. Keir was far away, arranging meetings with potential military captains. "Keir, obviously, wants to speed up the wedding. I keep telling him we should wait." Annemarie, who was sitting next to her, nodded. They were still lovers.

"The stars are not aligned right now. They need to wait another two months," Annemarie added. "If not, their family will be cursed and forever broken." Allison nodded solemnly. Selene's eyebrows no longer raised at Annemarie's spouts, though she wished that Allison wouldn't take it seriously. Annemarie just liked the attention.

"Well, our children will be great friends either way," Selene said, a small smile on her lips. Allison looked down at her pregnancy bump.

"How much longer do you have?" Allison asked, gesturing to Selene's stomach. Selene's face heated.

"The physician said three months," Selene responded. "But, who knows? My pregnancy is an odd case." An odd case was an understatement. This baby, this beautiful baby, is the first baby ever to be in the womb for over ten months. The longer the months went, the more she wondered what the effects would be. The baby has spent this extra time savoring its powers, taking advantage of its mother's life source. How does that change things? What does that make her baby?

"And your husband?" Allison asked. Selene's lips pursed. She hadn't told her what had happened between her and Tobias, nobody knew aside from the people inside that room, and Keir didn't seem like someone who would confide into his lovers. She didn't know, Selene realized.

"I still send him updates of the baby's progress," Selene responded. It wasn't a lie. "But we have not conversed." About anything. Still, after all this time, after fifteen months, he hadn't responded. She didn't care, not anymore.

"So you're staying here? After you give birth?" Annemarie asked. Selene nodded.

"I can't imagine anything changing at the Night Court any time soon," Selene answered evenly. "If Tobias hasn't responded, it means he's too busy to even consider having his family at the palace. I'm sure my stay with lengthen due to his workload." And fucking another woman. Not making love, she knew it wasn't love, but still touching, caressing, a different woman. Maybe there was a story to it, a reasonable excuse, but it was enough for her to fully move on.

"Oh, good!" Allison said, a smile spreading across her face. "And tell me-" The Great Hall doors banged open loudly. Jameson, who had been at her other side, stood up on his feet as the crowd settled into a staggering silence. Nobody was speaking as a redhead was dragged into the Great Hall. Nobody spoke as she screamed at the top of her lungs. As she tried ripping away from the tight hands that were dragging her across the stone floor.

"Rosalie," Selene said. It had been weeks, weeks since she had even seen her face. She had almost forgotten her, but now she was looking at her and her eyes were wide.

"Please!" Rosalie begged. The men who were holding her didn't even flicker at her. " _Please_!" It wasn't until she was halfway through the Great Hall did Jameson speak.

"What's going on? What is this?" Jameson hissed. The Great Hall was a time of celebration, not of drama.

"We found the reason the General had arrived," one of the men said. His beard was so scruffy that Selene couldn't see his lips. "It was her. She tipped him off." Suddenly, Rosalie became silent. Her lips were shaking.

And Selene was still as stone.

Selene was sure that Jameson wanted to postpone Rosalie's jurisdiction for another time, but the entire Great Hall was watching now. This didn't just affect him, this affected the entire population. Jameson stiffened as he glanced around the room.

"Okay, amuse me," Jameson said, taking three long strides towards Rosalie. There was a lazy smile on his face. "Amuse me, Rosalie. Why would you ever do such a stupid thing?" Rosalie rose her chin.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she said, choking down her sobs. Jameson's eyebrows rose calmly.

"You might as well take pride in what you did," Jameson said, shrugging. "You've already been caught." Rosalie's face tightened.

"I don't have to-" One of the guards hit her, hit her straight in the jaw. She screeched out, the pain probably unwavering. Selene shifted in her chair.

Selene turned to Jameson. She could see the confliction in his eyes, the question on what to do.

"Jameson-" And then Rosalie met eyes with her. Her eyes were filled with fury. Filled with pure rage.

"Don't defend me," Rosalie hissed. "Not you." Selene exhaled as she leaned deeper into her chair. Her hands were clinging onto the armrests.

"Have something against the healer, do you?" Jameson asked casually, his eyebrows rising. Rosalie scoffed.

"You guys are so full of it – all of you," Rosalie muttered. "Believing in her bullshit all the time." The audience started to whisper. Jameson's body straightened. Selene thought she was going to puke.

"She threatened me," Selene said to Jameson. She made sure the entire hall could hear her. "It's because of me, Jameson. She tipped him off to…" She tried imagining what would happen to her if Tobias found out. If he knew that she had disobeyed. "Take me away from you all." Any mercy that was left in Jameson's eyes, disappeared instantly. Rosalie didn't argue, instead she sneered.

"You should be there," Rosalie said, her eyes cold. "You don't deserve to be here. You're an outsider." Suddenly, men from all over the hall jumped to their feet. Yelling, booing, begging Jameson to just kill her. Rosalie shrunk back.

"Kill her," one of the men at the long table demanded. Jameson glanced at him at the corner of his eye. "She's a traitor. She tried compromising this entire city." Jameson shook his head.

"I can't," Jameson said, his voice oddly calm. "Execution is a felony punishment." Not even Keir could do it, Selene realized. Only the High Lord, the strongest man in the court, could issue a felony punishment.

"There would have to be a trial," Jameson went on. "And our High Lord would never condone that. Especially because he wouldn't see what she did as a crime." There were outbursts, complaints amongst the crowd to do it anyways.

"We may not like our High Lord," Jameson's voice raised. "But we are loyal to our code!" The voices lowered. Rosalie was shaking.

"Luckily for you, Rosalie," Jameson said slowly, "our hospitality-"

"I'm proxy to my husband," Selene interrupted loudly. Jameson swiveled around. "He made sure I had the same exact powers that he had during our ceremony. I can do anything that he can do during his absence." He thought it was a gesture of love, of commitment. But if Tobias ever believed that the opportunity for her to reign would arise, he would've never given that power. And when she had first been given it, she promised herself that she would never use it.

"He gave you that power?" Jameson asked softly. He was looking her over now, looking at the small girl who had saved so many lives. Who had so much power.

"Yes," Selene said surly. "He did." Jameson's eyes were twinkling. She looked at the crowd, every single one of them. And stood up.

"You have disobeyed the Hewn City, Rosalie-"

"I'll tell Tobias of this! I'll tell him you did this!" Rosalie screamed. She knew what was coming, she knew exactly what Selene was about to say.

"You have compromised our city, put our citizens in danger," Selene continued. "And tried destroying our resources." Rosalie's tears were falling down her face.

"Every time I looked at you, I saw Tobias. I just wanted to be in love without seeing him," Rosalie said. She was begging now. "I wanted to be in love and safe. I didn't want you having control over our-"

"I don't care," Selene said simply. She didn't. "You committed a crime." Rosalie inhaled raggedly.

"You will have a trial," Selene said softly. "And the trial will be of a capital punishment." It would be months, months before they would finally get Rosalie on the stand. But it was enough. It was enough to get back at what she did. The horrible atrocities that she almost did to Selene's people, ripping away the hope that Selene had worked so dearly to keep.

"Goodbye, Rosalie."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She woke up to the sound of screams. Loud, distant screams. She bolted upright, her fingers immediately clinging to the window sill. Her breath shaking, she pulled herself far up enough to put her nose to the window. She could see fires glowing miles and miles away, almost to the entrance of the city, and her people…they were running. Running towards the castle.

"Get up!" A voice said, the door opening with a bang. Selene turned around, looking at the panting Jameson. He looked just the same way as he had at dinner, tidy and clean-cut. But his face was flushed. "Selene, they're here." _They_. Clythia's army. She hadn't forgotten, she knew they were coming sometime, but –

"What did Keir decide?" Selene asked quickly. She had already left the bed and was putting on a coat. Quickly, as Jameson clung to the doorframe, she put all of her medical supplies into her pouch and zipped it up tightly.

"He has no plan," Jameson breathed. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. "The bastard told me he had a plan but when we saw her army…" He had lied. Keir had no plan. Where had he been, then? He told everyone he was stocking up on resources, gathering militia. But he had nothing.

And now the Hewn City was under attack.

"Where do you want me to go first?" Selene hissed. "The shop is far away, but if we can find a temporary area to get all these people inside…" Her eyes glanced outside. Most of the civilians were either inside already or dead on the street, but she could still hear screaming at a distance. Painful, sorrowful, screaming.

"Many are in the castle," Jameson said. He looked like he was staring a million miles away. "The lucky ones were able to run in before they attacked. The castle is protected by ancient spells that can't be broken. We are safe." But that meant nothing to her and she knew that that meant nothing to him. There were still people outside, being punished by Tobias's mistakes. By Tobias's lover.

"What do you want me to do first, Jameson?" Selene said again, her voice tight.

"Nothing," Jameson said. His voice was so soft. "Not you. You stay here." She turned towards him sharply. He wouldn't look at her, his eyes were fixated at the window, but she heard those screams. She heard the screeches and slaughter and murder. And she knew why Jameson had come into her room now.

"Don't do this. Don't shut me out because of something I can't control," Selene said. "I'm the only one who can heal those people. Tell me what I can do!" He stood up straight and took a step towards her.

"And what would happen to the rest of us, the ones who survived, if you die trying to save those people?" Jameson snarled suddenly. She flinched. "What do you think Tobias will do with the ones left over when his precious wife is dead at our hands?" Selene didn't even blink.

"You think we are going to lose," Selene said aloud. Jameson snorted.

"Selene, we lost ten minutes ago when she tore through the outer ring of the Hewn City," Jameson said emptily. Now, as she looked over him again, she wondered if he was even still alive inside. "I saw her men take out ten families within five minutes. Everything is on fire. Everything is burning." And nobody woke her. Nobody told her that the Hewn City had been under attack.

"I don't see her stopping even though she won," Selene said. She turned around, staring through her small window. The fires were spreading. Her men were growing closer to the inner city. "She'll destroy this entire city, Jameson." He shook his head.

"It's already destroyed, Selene. We have most of the population in the castle, but I need you to stay here in your room. I need you to stay safe and-" Suddenly, she was on the ground. Jameson had slipped to the ground too as the castle shook viciously. There were screams from below them, voices in the bottom levels of the castle.

"Selene!" Jameson screeched. Thankfully, she had fallen on her back and used the bed to soften her landing. He, on the other hand, had fallen on the floor with a thud. As the castle continued to tremble, she grabbed onto the windowsill and pulled herself up to look at eye level.

Bright bursts of colors were colliding with the walls of the castle, as if they were fighting against the invisible spells that protected them. She was going to kill them, Clythia was going to kill them all and all of whom didn't die, would be enslaved.

"She's going to get all of us," she said aloud, just as the trembling stopped. Thankfully, the palace was still intact. But not for long.

She got to her feet, running around Jameson and darting down the stairs. Behind her, she could hear Jameson shouting her name and tumbling after her. But it wasn't until she made it to the Great Hall, where all the voices came from, did he make it to her side. When she looked at the scene in front of her, Jameson came up from behind her and grabbed her arms. But then he looked too.

It was packed, entirely packed. The only thing that were on the tables were bodies – dead, mangled bodies. People were weeping and holding one another fearfully. Most of them had some sort of injury – whether it was a cut or a leg that was half cut off. Some were dying right in front of her, slowly fading away.

But her eyes shifted in front of her. All of whom who were stable enough were circled around the main table. There yells and cusswords being thrown into the air. Quickly, Selene darted through the people as Jameson begged her to wait, but she didn't stop until she made eyes with Keir.

He was holding the bowl. The beautiful, blue bowl that she had seen at her meeting. He was holding it fearfully. Jameson never told her what it was, or what it did, but just by the looks on people's faces…her face paled.

"Don't you dare break that!" A woman cried. Her face was puffy from the tears. "This is our last hope." Selene wasn't entirely sure if he was planning on breaking it, but Keir was holding it with his dear life.

"Keir," Jameson said warningly. He grew close to him. "What are you doing?" Keir's jaw clenched.

"Our army is still intact. We still have a thousand men ready to fight. I will not have-"

"If that's true, then how is Clythia tearing through our city like nobody is here?" Jameson hissed, his teeth clenched. Keir huffed.

"We are perfectly fine!"

"My brother is dead!" Someone shouted at distance. Keir scrunched back fearfully.

"Maybe if you all helped fight for your city, these people wouldn't be dead!" Keir yelled back. Though others seemed insulted by the comment, she saw that many agreed.

"If you believe that, then put down the bowl." The voice came from the quiet man at her meetings. His voice was silky and calm.

"No!" Keir said. "I will not be intimidated by-" A thunder silenced him. For a moment, the whole castle trembled.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" A man said. His voice was gruff but he seemed to have lost hope. "We have nothing left." Keir looked at him for a moment, holding his gaze, but then he noticed Selene. His eyes lingered on her.

"Maybe if we trade the girl-"

"Over my dead body!" Jameson said, going in front of her. Quickly, she gripped her baby bump. Though nobody lunged for her, she could see in their eyes that if it weren't Jameson's objections, she would be long gone.

"We need to give her the bowl," the man closest to Keir said. "It's our only hope." Selene blinked. She finally got it now.

"Forfeiting?" Selene asked. "The bowl is a white fla-" Keir rose the bowl above his head, close to smashing it, but Jameson screamed.

"That is our only communication to our High Lord," Jameson said. "Our only one. Why don't we at least try it?" Selene blinked. Keir rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That is an old fable," Keir growled. "It has never worked."

"What do you mean?" Selene asked. People were quiet. Jameson exhaled.

"The bowl is our call to help if we are under attack. It's a way of contacting the High Lord," Jameson responded dryly. "It's also a symbol of our connection to the Night Court. If we give it away, it means we give up the city. We give up our loyalty to the High Lord."

"It's just a story!" Keir's voice roared. "We have gone through this before. The High Lord has never actually answered." But it didn't matter. Because Clythia saw it as a symbol. If they gave her the bowl, than that meant they renounced their loyalty to the crown.

"Give me the bowl!" Selene shouted suddenly. Everybody around her – even Jameson – flinched. "Give it to me, you pious fool!" Kier snarled at her.

"I will not take _orders_ from a-" She swung the nearest plate at him. It hit him square in the head, making him stumble back stupidly. The plate was nothing, _nothing_ , compared to what he could do to her. The people around her probably thought she was out of her league, getting in a fight with Kier, of all people. But as Kier looked at her again, his teeth clenched, he paused.

"This is an emergency! People are dying!" Selene said louder. Nobody, nobody dared to interrupt her. "Let me contact Tobias. He won't answer you of all people. You need to-"

"He won't answer you either. Don't you understand? He won't answer any of us!" Kier argued. For once, she thought she heard…sorrow in his voice. Like he loved the Court of Nightmares too, and it killed him to watch it get destroyed. "None of us. Not even you. Because this place could burn in flames and his world wouldn't change, girl. He would lose nothing."

"I am his _wife_."

"A wife is replaceable."

"Give it to her, Kier," Jameson decided. His voice was gruff. "Give her a fucking chance." Kier's eyes were wide with shock. And Selene had to admit, she was surprised when Kier passed her the bowl. The silver, glowing bowl. Filled with a swirling, blue liquid. She let out a shaky breath.

"Tobias," she said, her voice nearly inaudible. Every eye that was watching her felt like a million pounds on her back. "Tobias. Tobias!" The blue liquid swirled harder. Swift, faster. So fast that she could barely hold the bowl. It didn't help, though, that her fingers were trembling. _Where would he be?_ It had been fifteen months. Fifteen whole months without a single response. But how long was it for him? Five, maybe four, months? Certainly, that was long enough to miss her. It was long enough for him to get the hundreds of letters she sent him. It was long enough to kill Clythia, long enough to want to see his unborn child. Long enough to create a plan that includes his wife being at his side.

Long enough to know that she would die here, die in this hell hole and be remade into something fiercer, before she waited eighteen months.

"Is that…" It was. Through the blue swirls, she saw two eyes. Two very dark, almost black, eyes, staring at her. His eyes held her gaze but he looked at her like she was a brick wall. Not his wife.

"We need help," Selene said sternly. "There-there was an invasion. People are dying, Tobias. We need backup, extra resources. We need you to help us." The eyes blinked. Clearly, he was listening. But yet, there was nothing but coldness that reflected back at her. Not love, not care. But the eyes tensed at her face, scrolling around rapidly. Impatient, annoyed. Like she was wasting his time.

"Tobias-" And then they were gone. Disappeared into the blue swirls, like they hadn't even been there at all. People around her waited, waited for a response, but Selene had had enough. She rose the bowl into the air and threw it to the ground. There was a wave of squeaks as it shattered against the marble floor. Protests yelled at all ends, cursewords flinging at her.

"He's not going to help us," Selene said, turning around slowly. "He can't…" _Waste soldiers for the Court of Nightmares_. It would be a waste of lives to him, lives that would be more productive elsewhere. But not to her. "We have to fight for ourselves. Jameson, round up the remaining soldiers from outside. Maddox, get me my emergency bottles." Keir leaned closer to her.

"Have you lost your fucking mind? We can't just round up my last men. If they leave-"

"Unless your men want to be blown up, I would suggest you move them," Selene said, just as coolly. "Because I'm making a bomb."

~*~ discidium ~*~

It only took her ten minutes to make it. It took every last bit of medicine she had left. It was her most reactive mix. All they had to do was light it on fire and it would blow up.

"Are you sure about this?" Jameson asked as she opened the door to the roof of the palace. He was carrying the large package behind her, while she was carrying a lighter. In other hand was a long piece of bendable string. All they needed to do was to light the bomb fast enough for it to go into the air and fling it to the opposite side of the Hewn City.

"No. I have absolutely no idea how it would even work." Jameson went ashen. He took a careful step towards her.

"Look, I went too far earlier, but I'm serious," Jameson said softly. "The right thing to do is to stay back. The chance-"

"The right thing to do, apparently, is to send your pregnant wife to the Hewn City. The right to do, according to our High Lord, is to be obedient, quiet, and invisible. The right thing to do, if you are so earnest, is to let Clythia take over because apparently, that's what Tobias wants," Selene hissed. The anger, the hot, boiling anger, was rising inside of her. She wondered if Tobias, miles and miles away, could feel it.

"If we die because of this," Jameson finished, "I want it to be together. No sacrifice. No dying for one another. We both die. We both go out as heroes." Because that's what they were, Selene realized. They were friends. Despite their bantering, despite their fights and pushing of buttons, they were friends. Best friends. Better than Rosalie. Far better than Leon. He protected her, and she protected him.

"It's a deal," Selene said, a small smile on her lips. "Now, here's my plan. We light it, we pull it against the piece of rope, fling into the air like a slingshot, and land it right there." And she pointed miles and miles away, where the core of Clythia's army was.

"Tobias will hear about this," Jameson said. "Especially if we actually survive this." Selene laughed. An honest laugh.

"Good," she said. "Now help me with this slingshot."

~*~ discidium ~*~

It blew them up like fireworks. After Jameson and Selene had flung out the bomb, huddling against each other as they counted the seconds to their deaths, the bomb hit the core of Clythia's army. All of whom didn't die, which was most, ran. Ran like ants. Ran like the true cowards they were and minutes later, they were gone. They were done with. They had won.

"You did it without him," Jameson said later. About five hours had passed since the battle and now they were all around the palace, celebrating their victory. She had been leaning against one of the outdoor pillars, watching as their people sang and dance. She sipped on her drink.

"Keir didn't thank me," she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Jameson shook his head.

"Not Keir," Jameson said. "Tobias." Her smile dropped instantly. It wasn't that she missed him, or that she loved him, it was that she felt like a traitor still. Even though she earned her place, she still felt like a horrible, disgusting traitor.

"He won't hear of it much," Selene said honestly. "It won't matter." His eyebrows furrowed down. He leaned closer to her. She flushed.

"Why is that?" Jameson said. "Did you finally get a response from him? Has he told you whether you're staying at the Hewn Ci-"

"My child is a boy." It was the first time she had said it aloud. Jameson inched back, his eyes wide as he looked down at her bump. It was no hiding what he was now – no hiding the beautiful child inside of her.

"How do you know?" Jameson asked.

"I took the gender test again," Selene said. "My last physician was an absolute moron, hence why I made him leave the Hewn City so early during my stay. I decided to check for myself and now I…" A boy. A boy with her blood, her wings, but Tobias's name. Tobias's throne.

"And you think he won't want him," Jameson added emptily. She brought the drink to her lips.

"The boy will be better here," she said. "Safer. Farther away. Far enough that Tobias will never look for him." Jameson's eyes were sparkling as he looked her over, head to toe. Trying to read the emotions on her face, the feelings that had been building up inside of her, and he knew. He knew what she was feeling, she knew what she wanted.

"I want to show you something," Jameson said. Her eyebrows furrowed down. "Follow me." And so she did. They walked back into the castle, leaving loud echoes as they walked upstairs. The cheering and celebrations of the crowd had was nearly inaudible once they made it to the room he was trying to lead her to.

She walked in. It was a small room – a suitcase, a desk, some cabinets. She waited patiently as he went around her, shuffling through various drawers. Until finally he held out his arm. She looked down at his closed palm.

"What-" and then he opened it. It was nothing – just a silver token. Her eyes narrowed.

"It's the rebel group's signature," Jameson said. "I thought you deserved it. You saved us." She looked down at it for a long moment.

"I'm not apart of the-"

"I know," Jameson said. "But you saved them. You saved us. And you'll never be recognized by the crown so I just thought…" It was something. Something that recognized her sacrifice, her duty. At least some sign that she would be remembered. She would always be remembered to someone.

So she took it.

"Thank you," she whispered. She hadn't realized that there were tears in her eyes until she looked up at Jameson. He was close to her, dangerously close to her.

She stepped towards him. Dangerous, dangerous territory. Because she knew what he was thinking in his head. That he should walk away, that they should both walk away. That this was impossible. But her fingers went to his face, stroking his cheek. Feeling his warmth. He was still as stone as she looked at him, taking her time to finally see him. To see what could have been.

"I'm afraid if I breathe too hard," Jameson said slowly, "then you'll leave. I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up, and you'll be gone." She shook her head.

"I'll always be here, Jameson," she promised. "With you." He closed the gap between them, feeling her now. Finally breathing.

His fingers were warm as they touched her lips. She let them feel around the curve of her lips, brushing against them softly. And as he grew closer, his green eyes having a glint of awe, she didn't look away. She could feel his body heat press against her, and didn't even stammer as his hands lowered to her waist, following the shape of her body carefully. His eyes dropped down, looking at all the places she knew he wanted to. At the uncovered areas, at the body she bravely showed, at the outlines of her body underneath the few areas that cloth covered. His breath deepened, breezing against her lips. His hand was trembling as it went around her baby bump. And his smile, his smirk, had dropped. If anything, he looked in awe. In awe that she was still standing there, in awe that she hadn't walked away.

"If you weren't here, Selene, this place would never be what it is," Jameson whispered. "We'd still be rotting away but since you've arrived…life has changed. These people have changed. The Court of Nightmares is alive for the first time in a millennium."

"It took me so long to realize," Selene said slowly, "that I wasn't meant to be there. That, after months of resenting myself and trying to change myself piece by piece, I realized I would never fit into the Night Court. Not because they would never accept me for my race, but because I'd never accept them for who they are. Because they don't know pain or struggle or how to survive. They don't know what it's like to be powerless. The only reason they're at the top is because everybody else is at the bottom. To thrive in the Night Court would mean I would have to oppress all those people, all of _these_ people, and they would call me weak because I wouldn't be able to do it. But they don't know strength. They don't even know what it looks like." Even though the room was dark, she could see Jameson's eyes shining brightly.

"He was terrified of you," Jameson whispered aloud. "He saw it, he saw the strength that was slowly building inside of you, a strength that he didn't have, and it scared him. That's why he sent you away. Not because you weren't worthy, Selene. Not because you weren't accepted. But because you were fearless." She held his gaze for a moment, taking in the depth of his words. Of the emotion swirling in his eyes.

And then suddenly her lips were crushed against his. Warm, soft, but hungry. For a second, she was scared. She was scared that he wouldn't kiss her back – after all, she was _married_. She was taken. But her love towards Tobias was toxic. It kept her glued to him, it was like a drug that made her lesser. But Jameson…she felt like she was an equal. Like she deserved to be loved, rather it being a privilege.

He kissed her back, holding her face in his hands, trembling as they tripped against the wall. And as he kissed her over and over again, she felt the strings snip. The string that made her want to be better for Tobias, the string that made her feel inferior to others, the string that made her feel like she would never be good enough. Because, to Jameson, she was. She didn't owe him anything – he would take whatever she gave him, whatever she was willing to share. He didn't have to have her fully, he just had to have her now.

She could feel the clothes slowly unravel off the both of them. They were both naked within seconds, fully aroused and their breaths quickening, but he paused. He hands were situated on her baby bump, rubbing it softly.

"It won't hurt him," Jameson said softly, and it sounded like it pained him to say it aloud. "But if it makes you uncomfortable-" No. _No_. She had to feel him. She had to feel him inside of her, filling her, making her feel like she wasn't just someone's pet. She wanted to feel truly loved, not some addiction that someone had to her.

He must've saw it on her face because he entered inside of her, causing a moan to escape. Just at the sound of her voice, his body tightened against her, making him let out a shaky breath as well. And as he continued, she realized she had never felt so aroused. When Tobias made love to her, she was practically a child. Her body wasn't as drenched as it was now, her body hadn't been clenching Tobias near as much as it was clenching Jameson. Her body wasn't ready for sex, despite what she might have told herself. She might have wanted Tobias, but she wanted him because he wanted her. Not because he truly aroused her.

She could feel every bit of him inside her, and she wanted it. She wanted all of it. She wanted _him_. And when they were both finished, making a total mess of themselves, she saw him got on his knees in front of her.

"Has your husband ever-" She felt her mouth dry up.

"No. No, he-he's a High Lord. It's against his values to go on his knees during sex," she said quietly, her voice cracking. It sounded so stupid, so stupid that she had let him have so much power in their relationship. She had gone on her knees many times for him – in their bedroom, in his office, wherever he wanted because she wanted to make him satisfied. Yet, he had never gone on his knees for her.

"Good," he said, before putting his mouth to her and making her moan harder than she ever had before.

~*~ discidium ~*~

There was tea brewing on the stove. The herbs were a new mixture that Allison created – Selene didn't even need to add a sweetener. Selene's hand remained on her baby bump as she leaned up on her tippy toes to meet the top cabinet and grab the jar. Jameson mentioned that he'd be swinging by, something to do with new weeds they had grown, so she wanted to get the tea settled now. She was far enough along that Maddox was earnest about her not spending too much time at the clinic, only because lifting heavy medical equipment and helping people to their cots were too difficult for a pregnant woman. On top of that, the last person that they wanted to get sick was the pregnant healer.

She didn't know where that left her. She already knew that she'd go back to work almost immediately after giving birth. Jameson already said that he would be willing to help out, and Maddox loved children more than she loved people. She had already bought a high chair that matched the wooden table one of the architects created for her after she had cured his family from Petten Pox. The apartment had a second room for the baby, and it was nearly full of baby presents that had been dropped off by random citizens of the Hewn City.

But Jameson? She didn't know where it ended with him. She didn't know what he was, and who he was to her. Who she was to him. Some days they would be sitting at her kitchen table for hours, making future plans for the Hewn City, but other days, they hung out in leisure. They hadn't talked about their night, they pretended it didn't even happen. After all, she was pregnant with another man's child, a man who was Jameson's utmost enemy. And she figured that once things calmed down, they would figure out a way. But at least, it was calm now.

And it was then, as she put the tea on the table, did she hear the knock at the door.

"Hold on, I'm on my way," Selene said. Or maybe they'd talk about it today, she thought. Maybe they would address the situation. After all, Jameson had spent many nights there, either eating dinner together or taking her out into the nightlife. It was complicated, she was pregnant, but she was also one of them. She was a citizen of the Hewn City now, and for once, nothing seemed impossible. Even seventeen months pregnant, nothing was impossible.

She opened the door with a smile and said, "Ja-" And then froze. Her eyes fell down to the figure, looking him up and down cautiously. He looked the same but….not the same. His hair was still brown, but it was pulled back tightly, unlike the natural waves that once flowed down his neck. His eyes were darker than she remembered and he looked oddly skinny in his uniform. She never noticed how much tanner he was compared to her. There was no smile on his face.

Her hand clung onto the doorframe while his hand clung to his walking stick.

"Hello, Selene," Leon said.

It was like seeing a ghost. It had only been a few months for him – just long enough for them to miss her. But he didn't understand how long it had been for her. She was far past missing them. She learned not to just survive without them, but how to live without them. She made a family that wasn't blood, an occupation that gave her true power. Seeing him there now…he didn't know that she didn't believe she would ever go back. That she had stopped dreaming, had stopped waiting, for him to save her. She let go of the idea of them being family, and started living a life that she made by scratch. She hadn't even thought of their faces in weeks - maybe even months. And now, seeing him, she couldn't breathe. It was like looking into a nightmare that she had once saw as a dream. Because now that she had joined the Court of Nightmares, now that she saw the Court of Nightmares as her permanent home, she didn't want to leave. There was no way she could go back to _their_ world and be the same person.

"What are you doing here?" She didn't hide the iciness from her voice. He didn't twitch, he didn't even seem surprised by her unwelcoming tone, but she could feel the unfamiliar coldness come off him as well. Like, within the past few months, he had turned into a darker, different person just like she had.

"He wants you back." Her blood ran cold. _He_. Not _Tobias_ , not _your husband_ , not _my brother._ He. As if they were talking about a complete stranger, and not the love of her life and certainly not his brother.

"Why?" She demanded. This time, his eyes flickered. He could hear the anger now - the pure, stinging anger that she felt towards the Night Court. The ungrateful, unfamiliar sneer. That she wasn't just uneasy about leaving and going back to her old home, she didn't want to leave at all. She wanted to stay at the Court of Nightmares.

"It's your eighth month," Leon reminded her as she stood in silence. "He promised to bring you back before you gave birth." _Promise_. She almost laughed at that. She hadn't known it then, she was too naive. But it wasn't a promise, it was a sentence. She was just a doll that he kept to make him feel better, and right when she began to disagree with him, when she became an inconvenience, he sent her away. Her hands curled around her stomach protectively. It was then that Leon glanced around, eyeing the outside of the townhouse and even catching a glance into her foyer. Seeing her world. Looking at her clothes, her makeup, the way she glowered at him. His lips twitched down, suppressing a grimace. Maybe even disgust.

"It's time to go." This time, his voice was harsh. It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Just in case you were wondering, that was 56 pages. Honestly, I think I deserve a review. Or twenty.


	16. Chapter 16

"Come quietly." She chewed in the inside of her lip. She could run, she thought. She could just kill him, she considered. But instead, she stepped away from her doorway calmly, closing the door shut behind her like she had done a thousand times before. She looked at him in the eyes, holding onto his gaze tightly before she stepped beside him. Looked at him with a look that could kill a thousand men, looked at him like she could take down their entire court if she wanted to.

"Okay," she said. The only sign of surprise of her compliance was that he blinked. Like the prisoner she was, she followed him closely, walking through the dirty streets and the passing citizens. None of the citizens said anything, and there was nothing on their faces that revealed what she had done for them, but their eyes traced her movements carefully. Even Maddox, as she passed their clinic, didn't say a word. But she saw how Maddox's hand clenched the doorway tightly, her eyes not moving off of Leon's body. Quiet, compliant, invisible to the Night Court as she was ripped away from all of them.

But these were her people. She would not let them beg for her. She would not let them fall on their knees for her. She would not let _them_ be the sacrifice that Tobias and Leon so dearly wanted. And they knew that.

It wasn't until they made it to the exit of the Hewn City did Jameson see her. He must've been running because by the time he reached her, he was drenched with sweat. He walked to them silkily though, giving Leon a playful smirk. Quickly, Leon grabbed Selene's hand and pushed her behind him. He hadn't noticed, though, that she had ripped away the minute he touched her.

"Why am I not surprised that your worthless ass is still alive?" A part of Selene's body electrified. Her eyes widened a bit, her fingers clenched as she forced herself to stay calm. To pretend that she didn't care. To pretend that Leon was even half the man that Jameson was.

But there was no need to because Jameson was at her side. Inches, inches away from her. Though he didn't dare look at her, his fingers were teasing the weapon that she knew hid underneath his jacket. Weighing the options, considering the possibilities of how this could end. But they both knew that this could only end in one way.

"I see you're taking the High Whore away," Jameson said, flashing her a twisted smile. She remained emotionless. "What a shame. She was fun to play with. Weren't you, Lady Selene?" Leon's face turned red and he took a jagged step towards him. But even if he had a healthy leg, he didn't stand a chance against Jameson. He didn't deserve to stand a chance.

"Do you want me to tell the High Lord that you've been mistreating your Lady this entire time?" Leon spat at him. "Saying such filth to her." Empty words. It was just pure anger now, pure spite that Leon even bothered to reply. He was about to turn away, but Jameson scoffed loudly.

"Sure, but make sure to remind him that he let it happen for eighteen months." Leon flinched. She looked at Jameson sharply, begging him to walk away, but his face was icily cold. He knew that Leon would never let her stay, that Tobias would never let her come back. But he wasn't going to let her leave without looking at her one last time. And he sure as hell wasn't going to stop himself from sharing a word with Leon.

"I hope you die in this hell hole," Leon said. Selene wasn't even able to whisper goodbye before Leon pulled her through the exit.

~*~ discidium ~*~

It was like walking into a memory. Nothing had changed - not a single thing. The furniture was still placed at the same exact angle from the table ornament and her old tea set was still scattered on the coffee table. The stain that had been made on the wall of the morning of her departure could be seen faintly. The closet was still cracked open, the corner of the rug was still flipped over. She had forgotten about the little things that showed the imperfections in the palace, like the crooked couch and the chipped vase. But the air was stuffier than usual. There was a slight smell of mustiness in the air and the blinds, she saw, hadn't been dusted.

Nobody had walked into the living room since she left. Not even to clean. And though nothing had changed, not a damn thing, she felt contaminated. Gross. Because this couldn't be the same place she once lived - she once saw this as a sanctuary, but she felt like she was in hell. Her bones were tingling for her to run, run away and don't stop until she was miles and miles away. That she wasn't supposed to be here, that her, standing in this palace, looking into this living room, was _wrong_. She should be in her two-bedroom apartment, preparing remedies, honoring her people. Not being trapped into a palace like an animal who had to be tamed. She was disgusted, disgusted by all of it. She didn't think she could take an extra step.

"Selene." Her body tightened. She knew that voice, she had nightmares about that voice. The thick, sour voice that had demanded so much of her, yet said her name like she was a pure angel that was lucky to step foot into his home. Like she was his godly heavens that he rightfully deserved. A voice that almost sounded unreal and, to some extent, an old figment of her imagination.

She turned. He was strikingly handsome - she wouldn't deny that. He still looked breathtaking, and she still felt an exhilaration when she saw him. But now she was smart enough to feel terror as well. She was smart enough to know that their relationship was only a facade to fulfill his inner desires, and nothing else. None of it was real. And she couldn't trust him. Never again.

"You look…" Her hair was still in tight braids and her make-up was yet to be washed off. But she was sure that those weren't reason that he stumbled. She walked differently, she breathed differently, she was different than what he remembered. And she was eight-months pregnant with his child.

"Your cheekbones," he whispered. "They're different. More defined, almost…" His eyes were going up and down her slowly, taking in every inch. Every body part. As if he never longed for anyone else in her absence. As if there was a chance that she would reciprocate his desires.

"I missed you," he breathed, closing in the gap between them. "I've missed you so-" He reached for her and just as his fingers touched her face, she, without thinking, shoved him. Those hands…his hands that had so much blood and torture on them. That had forced children to slaughter innocent people just so that he could fill up his military. Who would send a general into the Hewn City just to torture innocent citizens - and who denied a whole population the right to have a healer.

He jolted back, the lines on his face deepening as he tipped back. She didn't even consider apologizing. Instead she continued to stare - at his hands, at his large, sparkly-clean hands.

She didn't know how many seconds passed between them. She only knew that she was there, trapped in his living room, trapped with a pure monster, and she would rather die than be there again. But her hands went to her baby bump, as if to protect him from the cruel man in front of her. As if to remind herself that she couldn't die. Not with him in her still, at least.

"I didn't think that you may have some…adjustment issues after being in the Court of Nightmares for so long," Tobias said, after he realized that she wasn't going to speak. S _ure, blame it on the Hewn City, blame it on the innocent prisoners,_ she wanted to say. He refused to look at her. "I would like a dinner between ourselves, but I think we all need a family-dinner to catch up on things. In thirty minutes or so, there'll be food on the table." She was quiet for a moment, digesting his words. But then she nodded.

"Alright," she said. Her voice was quiet, but also stern. Cold as steel. "In the meantime, I'll go ahead and go upstairs. I need to wash up." She went around him swiftly, not even looking at him as she walked away.

"Wait, I want to talk to you about-"

"We'll have all the time to talk about it during dinner, Tobias."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She had moved all of her clothes to one of the many guest rooms within minutes. She didn't allow any of the pestering servants to touch her things, she refused to respond to them altogether. She had done everything for herself in the Hewn City, she had blossomed in her independence, and she wouldn't let anyone compromise that.

As she hung them up, she looked at the clothes. They were so…silky. Once, it allured her. Now that she had seen the beautiful dresses made out of scrap cloth, the gorgeous dresses that had been created out of nothing rich or expensive, she had no interest. She would start making her own clothes immediately, she thought.

And this palace. This fucking palace. Everything was so pretty - so cleancut, so sparkly, so expensive. Sure, it was probably the prettiest palaces of all the courts, but nothing inside of it was _real_. They didn't love each other, they didn't want each other, they didn't share this palace as a home. They just used each other for pleasure and boredom. It was a place of leisure.

She had almost finished putting up the clothes when she heard a creak behind her. Instantly, she swerved around, her feet shifting into fighting position, but then her lips pursed.

"Leon." He had been quiet when they walked in. He had dropped her off in the living room like she was a child going to daycare. He hadn't said a word to her after he took her from the Hewn City, and she had not said a single thing to him.

She hadn't even looked at him. Not really. But he looked different. He was twice as skinny as he was when she hadn't lived with him, his eyes had bags underneath them, and there were frown lines around his mouth. He looked weak. He was relying on the stick desperately. While she had aged only eighteen months, he looked like he aged ten years.

"You look like a woman." She hadn't noticed that he was analyzing her as well. Her neutral face didn't even flicker.

"I am a woman," Selene replied. His jaw clenched.

"You're a woman _now_ ," he corrected. Even his voice sounded weak. "I didn't realize that…that you weren't even done with puberty when you married him. You really do look different." Because she had been a _child_. A child who knew how to fight, how to fuck, how to hunt. But still a child who had been pushed into a marriage with expectations that she wasn't equipped for. If he had only waited a few months, just a little more time to figure out who she was, she wouldn't be so damaged. So trapped.

"Did you come in here for any specific reason?" She asked. His face twisted. "I'm in the middle of doing something." He looked around suddenly, as if he had finally realized that she was, in fact, in her old room. Far, far away from Tobias.

"Why are you-"

"I'm busy, Leon."

"You're just moving clothes, Selene. Please, can we-"

"I'm _busy_." He shrunk back when she said it, as if the words physically hurt him.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll see you at dinner then." She didn't say goodbye as he closed the door.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Thirty minutes. That was enough time to change clothes, undo her hair, wash her face. It was enough time to test out the many perfume bottles that she had left behind when Tobias kicked her out, and consider all the jewelry that Tobias silently bought her while she was away. But thirty minutes was an hour and a half in the Hewn City. In an hour and a half, she could've cured at least ten people, made at least twelve sets of remedies, and have tea with Jameson. She could be saving lives and yet…she was wearing a thousand coined dress, she had wasted more time doing her hair than she had done altogether in the last eighteen months, and the virgin bride that stared back at her from across the mirror looked unrecognizable.

She did look older. Besides the everlasting baby bump, she was at least an inch or two taller than she had been before. Her face was more angular, as if her childish cheeks had finally shed away, and her hair was a dark blonde rather than the white-iced blonde that she originally had. There was already a wrinkle or two forming at the ends of her lips. Due to the pregnancy, she had gained enough hip weight for the pregnancy to not look awkward on her skinny body, and she hadn't realized how large her boobs had gotten. In the Hewn City, it wasn't important. None of it was important. Her appearance was the least of her achievements. But here, it was detrimental for her survival.

When she finally made it out of her room, she was wearing a thin, dark red gown with golden cuffs on her biceps and her hair in a tight bun. She didn't bother sending a servant down to warn Tobias of her arrival, or to run by Leon's room and see if he was ready. She would not play their games – she would never play the Night Court's games ever again.

"Hello, Lady Selene." Her jaw clenched. _Lady_ Selene. She stopped being a lady eighteen months ago. But the guard was only doing his job, to do whatever Tobias demanded of him.

"There's no need to call me that," she said stiffly. The guard, who was standing outside the dining room paused for a split second, but then nodded. He opened his mouth to continue, but then her hand went to the door and opened it herself. She saw him stagger at the corner of her vision, as if fighting to do it for her, but she walked into the dining room swiftly.

At first, Selene's eyes scrolled the dining room. It was so…small. Unlike the celebratory Great Hall that she had learned to admire. The dining room table was still perfectly shaved, without a single dent, and she hadn't realized how odd the chairs were shaped until now. The chandelier was sparkly and sharp. The plates were perfectly aligned. She looked up at the figure at the farthest part of the table.

"I made your favorite," Tobias said. She was still. "Come, sit." She felt her legs move towards him as she looked at the food on the table. What even was her favorite? She had been at the Night Court so briefly, and had been at the Hewn City for so long, that she couldn't even remember. It looked like a certain meat. Maybe mixed into a –

"Hello, Lady Selene." She tripped on her toes. Her hand went to the nearest chair and Tobias jolted out of his seat to catch her. But she had staggered upright, her whole body losing its warmth. She felt everything, every emotion, rush through her – anger, sadness, spite.

"Rosalie," Selene whispered. Rosalie hadn't been in her direct view when she originally walked in but here she was – in front of her. Staring at her blankly, pretending as if her sitting at the dinner table was perfectly normal and that they had not, in fact, spent the last eighteen months in the Hewn Court. Like Selene hadn't sentenced her to possible death.

Her hand curled around the back of the seat tightly.

"You brought Rosalie?" Selene asked Tobias carefully. It was the first time since she had arrived did she finally show interest in Tobias's utter existence. Her eyes didn't leave Rosalie's body.

"Of course I did," Tobias said. "I apologize for the damage, Selene. You see, I didn't think Leon would be stupid enough to forget her." As Selene's eyes ran down her, she saw that Rosalie was a mess. She was wearing Night Court attire and her body was glowing clean, but there were scratches that layered down her arms and a black ring circled her left eye. Her bottom lip was split. The Hewn Court could be cruel, but they didn't care enough to beat up prisoners. The Night Court must have dragged her out. That was the damage he spoke of.

"Leon was supposed to get her?" Leon was sitting next to her, his eyes in his lap. Alike to her, he had cleaned up. He was wearing a maroon tunic that slipped down his chest and his hair was tied back. She saw, though, that there were red strikes that peaked over his shoulder blades.

"I went back down there myself." She turned towards Tobias. He was looking at her just as critically as she was looking at him. Analyzing her movements, watching for her response. Almost like he was testing her. As if he didn't trust her either. But no, he didn't know. He didn't know anything about what she did. Which meant she had to play along, at least for now.

"Thank you," she said. But she saw a flicker in his eyes. As if…he didn't quite believe her. So she spun towards Rosalie's direction quickly.

"I'm so glad you're back," Selene said, a smile on her face. "Welcome home." Rosalie's smile was, on the other hand, believable. Selene's stomach twisted as she looked into Rosalie's glistening eyes. Her empty, glistening eyes.

"I'm glad to be home." Liar. Criminal. She could only wonder what Rosalie was saying in her head – what curses she was throwing at Selene. Because she remembered their conversation about how Rosalie swore she would not be dragged back…but they were both wrong.

"Sit," Tobias said. His voice was lighter. "Next to me. We have some…catching up to do." Her skin crawled. But she followed him, even let him touch her hand and pull her towards the petite chair next to him. When she sat down, Leon was still staring at his lap and Rosalie was looking at the both of them emotionlessly. She pursed her lips.

"I should catch you up on the last six months, Selene," Tobias said with an exhale. She turned to him. She stared at him, waiting for the anticipation, the excitement to hit, but she felt nothing. She was empty of all the emotions that had once filled her when he spoke to her, and she didn't give a damn. She didn't want to hear about what he had done for the last six months. What was going on above the mountain was nothing, nothing of importance to her, compared to the Hewn City. Every ounce of interest had disappeared.

"Really, Tobias, there's no reason to. I-"

"I'm readying for war." Nothing. Nothing. She still felt nothing as she held his gaze.

"And you're using Illyrians?" She continued, not skipping a beat. His jaw clenched.

"Yes. How-"

"Because I know the consequence of going to war," she said. There was a slight hint of defensiveness in her voice. "Go ahead, use them. I forgive you." She had even shed her Illyrian identity under the mountain. Though there were people she still loved in those villages, and she would always love her wings, those weren't her people. The Hewn City was her people.

Her eyes found Rosalie's. Her eyes were no longer empty. Instead, she was clenching the arms to her chair and staring at Tobias wildly. Leon was finally looking up, looking at her confusion and Tobias…he was in awe.

"You don't _care_? At all?" It almost came out as a sneer. She looked back at him and shrugged.

"I'm sure you had your reasons," Selene said. His face loosened. "If you need to go to war, do it." He leaned back in his chair.

"I still want to keep you updated. I've been communicating with the other courts, which will change things significantly. The Spring Court refuses to back me, but the Autumn Court is considering it and the Summer Court says they'll allow us free passage if…" She let him ramble. She tuned him out as he continued talking about other people, places she didn't care about, places that were no longer relevant in her mind.

"Initially, we weren't supposed to go to war. I was fighting to change it, trying to prevent it. But I…We've been in a tight spot," Tobias said, after a few minutes of speaking of the upcoming war. "There have been things going on in this castle that haven't quite left..." She waited.

"We made a bad move," Tobias said. "We were going to settle to stop the war, make a deal with Clythia, but the rebels got out of hand. They have half the Illyrian mountains now, have half of the – your village being one of them." She swallowed.

"I'm sure they're fine," she replied. Tobias didn't correct her but she could tell, just by his eyes, that they were not fine at all. None of them were fine.

"They've been brainwashing Illyrian clan leaders," Tobias continued. "That was fixable, though. If we could just get the rebel group to die out, the Illyrian clan leaders would stop giving a damn about their lies." Selene's lips pressed together tightly.

"So, Clythia came to me," Tobias whispered. "She came to me and she…she told me she would help me." She heard a creak. She looked at Leon, was clutching his chair so tightly that she wondered if he would break the chair. But he didn't intervene, he didn't speak.

"If I did what she said, at least. If I agreed to be more open to her ideas," Tobias said, letting out a low growl. "And I did it. With reasonability of course – whatever trade she wanted, whatever allyship she wanted me to show to people, making plans for _our_ future." Our future. He meant him and Clythia, not her and him. The ambitions that they built together, the cruel ambitions that made Selene and Tobias two entirely different people. The idea of taking over the globe, of solely focusing on materials instead of their people's livelihood, was childish compared to Selene's feats. But it brought Tobias and Clythia together – a good match, in her opinion. And she knew what the costs were. The costs in Selene's life for Tobias to choose Clythia's ambitions.

But she had stopped caring. Clythia and Tobias were old news. She could have him, she could have him every day for all Selene cared.

"It got out of hand," Tobias continued, his voice a little bit shaky. "It got way out of hand. It took me a while to back out – to back out slowly. There are things that I did….I'll never forgive myself for it, Selene. What I did-"

"Don't, Tobias," Selene said. Deep down, she had no sympathy and she didn't want to watch him try and fight for it. "It's okay, now." But he shook his head at her.

"I did terrible things," Tobias said. "Terrible, terrible things to maintain peace. I lost myself in it all. But then I woke up, and I remembered you, and now I'm doing it the right way, alright? We're going to do it the right way. We're going to fight that bitch." He looked around the table, holding each of their gazes. As if they were his team that he wanted, and he was searching for their empathy. Their loyalty.

"So you fucked her." It came from Rosalie. Selene whipped her head towards her, her eyes wide. She didn't care for Rosalie, not in the littlest, but Rosalie had to be careful. Maybe she forgot that people had to be careful on what they say in front of him, or maybe she didn't care, but Selene didn't want her blood splattered against the dining room walls.

"That's what you're saying, right?" Rosalie continued fearlessly. Selene was frozen. "That you fucked her and now you want you pretty little wife to forgive you because it's written all over your face? Because if you don't tell her, the rest of your people will?"

"Rosalie," Leon hissed. But even then, his words were half-hearted, weak. This house…it was very, very different than from when they had left it.

"You knew you had to choose between her and Selene, and you chose her. Because Clythia would never allow you to have both, and Selene is too good, too superior, to bother having Clythia as an opponent. She'd leave your ass." She had never thought about that. If it came to it, would she fight for Tobias's affection if Tobias was truly interested in Clythia?

"That's enough," Leon snarled. But Tobias was hanging on her words like they were drugs.

"Yeah," Tobias said. Selene shifted towards him. His eyes were on Rosalie. "I did. I fucked her. But I didn't choose her. I would never choose her, because she is nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to Selene. I fucked her because I didn't know what to fucking do. Because she had her hands on our court and…I needed to distract her. Because she told me to, and insinuated if I didn't, then our relations would be over. Because she gave me no other choice." Selene blinked. He refused to meet eyes with her. Instead, he kept his eyes on Rosalie. Rosalie let out a laugh. Selene sunk back in her chair.

"Oh, poor baby. I'm sure it must have been so hard for you, of all people, to-" Tobias slid out of his chair but just as he got up, so did Selene. Quickly, she clasped his hand. He was shaking, trembling in anger.

"Don't," she said. Tobias finally looked at her, his face whiter than usual and his eyes big. Swelled up with emotion. With desperation and sadness and pain. He truly didn't think she'd forgive him, he truly thought that this news would ruin her.

"I'm sorry-"

"No," Selene said. Her voice was firm as steel but then she added softly, "Don't be. It…I'm sure you had your reasons. I forgive you." He was silent, extremely silent. Leon had stopped clenching the chair and was leaning against the table, watching closely. Rosalie's smile had dropped.

"Selene-"

"I trust you," she said fast. She didn't want the begging to start, the crying, the manipulation. He knew that he could do whatever he wanted, he could fuck Clythia right in front of her, and she would never be able to do anything about it. So why care? Why even pretend to be mad?

"Aren't you being mighty forgiving," Leon muttered. Her jaw clenched.

"I'll only be in this house for a short time, Leon. I don't want the little time we have altogether to be fighti-"

"No." She looked up at Tobias. He was staring down at her tightly. "No. You're not going back. I refuse to send you back." She stepped back from him, from everyone. Her face heated up as she stared at him.

"I'm not safe here," she said. It took everything, everything she had, to not burst. There was sweat dropping down the back of her neck. "The baby-"

"As long as you're fine, the baby will be fine," Tobias growled. "And you _will_ be fine."

"Fine or obedient?" She snapped back, just as harsh. This time, he blinked. Confusion washed over his face as he looked at her up and down, as if searching for a detail that he had missed. Something that was beyond just a physical change. Something that showed some sort of proof, some sort of hint, that he wasn't looking at the same woman.

"Don't you dare put it like that," he hissed quietly. The tone of his voice would have once made her body shrink back, but she couldn't even pretend to cower. "You have no idea, no idea what has been going on since you left. You have no idea about anything. Don't you dare try to make _me_ look like the problem." She shook her head slowly. After all, she had saved hundreds of fae from all over the continent. She had a seat in the Hewn City, she had loyal followers that would riot against Tobias if she told them to.

"You're talking about risking our child's life!" Selene's voice rose. "What did you expect me to say?" His eyes were blazing.

"We can talk about this when-"

"We're talking about this now!" Selene said. "My child can't live here! Look at this place. It's a wreck. Nothing about this place feels safe at all. Even you-"

"That child isn't some Illyrian bastard," Tobias snarled over her. "She is royal blood. She is a part of my bloodline. I see now that the Court of Nightmares has poisoned you. That place is hell, Selene. _Hell_. And if you think that you can raise my child there, you are absolutely out of your mind." She stepped towards him, just an inch.

"You locked your wife up there," Selene said cruelly. "What's the difference between your wife and a child?" His face twitched downward.

"I don't see you complaining," Tobias said. She swallowed. She hadn't. Not enough, at least. Not enough for her secrets to be safe.

"Velaris," a small voice said. They both turned to the redhead across the table. She was looking at the table intensely. "You promised her Velaris. And instead you sent her to the Hewn City. She just wants to save her child, Tobias. So she's fighting for the only option that she knows of, which is the Hewn City." Tobias stopped, studying her. Studying the beaten whore who, until now, showed little interest in Selene's safety.

"Don't defend me," Selene said instantly. "You-"

"Don't," Rosalie said sharply. "You don't have to do it anymore, Selene." Selene blinked at her. Her body was ticking inside, ticking like a time bomb, and if Rosalie said one more word, she may just burst.

"And do what exactly?" Tobias asked. Selene's eyes were merciless as they stayed on her tightly.

"Protect him," Rosalie said. She cleared her throat. "Protect us." Tobias's face slackened. His eyes went to Selene, as if to understand, but she didn't know what to say.

"She thinks her baby would be safer elsewhere," Rosalie said. "And when she saw how easily I thrived in the Court of Nightmares, and how they didn't have any negative experiences with her either, maybe it would be easier for her to be there. And easier for you – for you to be you. Better for all of us." Tobias sneered at this.

"I-"

"Velaris is unrealistic. People still are mesmerized by the royal family. They'll still worship her and collect unwanted attention. But in the Court of Nightmares, it's easier to raise a family because nobody sees her as your wife. She's a nobody there. Plus, you won't have to work so hard to please her. You can visit her when you wish, however long you wish, but only when you want to. You get your freedom, my lord." She understood what Rosalie was saying, what she was truly saying. They were trapped, they were all trapped when they were inside this house. They were constantly walking on egg shells to be someone they weren't. Always trying to justify their actions.

"You don't have to worry about pleasing me," Selene said. She didn't dare look at him. "You can do what you have to do, Tobias. If I'm gone, you aren't obligated to tell me. You aren't obligated to be someone you aren't or to fit my standards." His face slackened. His hand went to the chair, as if to steady him.

"You want to live separate lives?" Tobias asked, his voice a whisper. She still refused to meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes focused on the dark-wood table.

"I don't want my child living in a house where there's no freedom," Selene said. This time, she wasn't lying. "I hold you down. I'm better off in the Court of Nightmares. And you can visit me whenever you feel like you're ready. Don't see this as an end for us." Tobias was quiet, as if he was truly ruminating on the possibility. As if he truly considered that she was at fault for his mistakes. Just like her entire town had, just like Leon and Rosalie had. Just like everybody in the world, outside of the Hewn City, had.

"Don't you think we've had enough freedom for a lifetime?" She heard him say. She looked up at him. He wasn't crying, he didn't even look moderately upset, but she could feel that he was hanging on a thread. She could feel it in her gut.

"I'm not sure what fucking voice you've been listening to, Selene, but you've underestimated my loyalty. I don't want freedom," Tobias snarled viciously. She pursed her lips. "I don't want to be able to do whatever I want. I want you. I want you in this house. And I want to look my daughter in the eyes and instead of teaching her about freedom, I want to teach her how to fight all these bastards that are trying to break us." For a moment, she forgot that Rosalie and Leon were in the room. Her chin had risen, looking her husband in the eyes. Certainly, he didn't see the passionate eighteen year old that she once was. She had blossomed into something far worse. But how long would it take for him to see that?

"She-" Selene whirled around, and Rosalie had good enough reason to flinch.

"Do _not_ defend me," Selene said again, her voice guttural. "I don't need your help." Tobias hands clamped behind his back loudly. She looked at him as he evaluated her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Looking at her again, with good reason. And a part of her didn't care if he saw the fearless woman that hid underneath the silky dress, who was starkly different than the girl he impregnated eight months ago.

"You should go to your room," a voice said. It came from Leon. He didn't cower when she glared at him. He didn't even hesitate. Instead, he glared back. After all, he had nothing to lose. "Clearly, this pregnancy is weighing on you."

"My pregnancy is none of your-"

"We'll get a healer in tomorrow to assess your hormones," Leon said. The soft pity in his voice made her blood boil. "For now, you should go rest." There was a knife inches, just inches, from her hands. But she knew she couldn't touch it. She knew she couldn't fight them. They would end up disarming her before she could take a second breath and then she would truly be trapped forever.

So she looked at Tobias dead in the eye, challenging the darkness within him.

"Fine," she said. "I'll spend the rest of the night resting up."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She was not resting up. She was sending a box of goodies to the Hewn City. Sending packages wasn't hard – she just had to make sure the message-man believed that it was from Tobias and all would be good. But being there, actually escaping this wretched palace, would be the hard part. She couldn't wait for Jameson's rescue, as she was sure that he knew that she wouldn't want him to risk his life for hers. After all, she had the High Lord's baby inside of her. What steps would Tobias be willing to take to make her stay, especially if Jameson was the one to help her get out?

But once it struck midnight, and the full moon was beaming above her brightly, she knew she needed a break. Quietly, she brought herself to walk back into the disgusting, wretched castle once again. Every step made a part of her hurt, as if her own body was protesting the ordeal. Instead of running, she was willingly walking back into Tobias's home – her prison.

It was eerily quiet as she walked through the endless halls. It must have been later than she thought because there was a major decrease in guards. They must have been in the middle of a shift change, she considered, but still – she was surprised. She hadn't noticed how little guards there had been. Unless Tobias sacked them all…?

As she made it to the main area, which she had to pass by to reach her wing of the castle, she began to hear whispers. It wasn't surprising, Tobias's office was down there. But even with his office door cracked and a cackling fire that could be heard from outside, she could hear the conversation perfectly.

"And here I was thinking that brothers don't keep secrets!"

She stopped. Truthfully, she could care less about the spat. This entire castle reeked of tension and hatred. Why should she care now that they were finally letting it all out? But she had left her room in the hope to find a way out. What if this was one step closer to the answer? She needed to know the Night Court's weaknesses.

She peered into the crack. Leon was closest to her. Alike to earlier, he was holding onto his walking stick tightly, his hand trembling on the handle. His healthy foot was wobbling as well, but that seemed like the least of his concerns. His face was furious, his eyes filled with anger and his teeth barred. There was no color left in his face, only the fury that showed.

But she looked down at his other hand. At first, she couldn't tell what he was holding. Papers, maybe? But then he took a small step and she noticed that it wasn't just paper, it was dull-white enveloped bunched together with a loose rubber band. From what she could tell, none of them looked opened, though the edges were all weathered as if they had been shoved into a drawer desk and forgotten. For a second she lost interest and was about to turn on her heel, but then she saw the scripture on the envelopes. It was…her handwriting. Those were her letters. She let out a shakey breath as she began to count the ones in his hand – ten, maybe fifteen? But on the coffee table next to him was loads of envelopes. Multiple small piles of the same closed, weathered envelopes that she had once closed and mailed.

None of them had ever been opened. While she had spent weeks and weeks sending out letters, fetching down mailmen, licking the ends of envelopes and losing sleep wondering if he would ever write back, he didn't even read the first sentence. Leon stepped forward once again, now blocking her view of the letters. She almost got tunnel vision just by staring at them. Her hand was grasping the wall.

"Did you even try opening them?" Leon asked quietly. His voice was tight, careful, as if he was trying so hard not to burst that he was in pain. Tobias didn't reply. "How many are left, then? How many times had she written you and you didn't even bother glancing at the damn words? Weeks? Months? Over a _year_?" His voice was growing louder now. Tobias had snorted, leaning deeper into his large chair that was facing the raging fire.

"Do you seriously find this funny?" Leon demanded, throwing the letters to the ground with a thud. Tobias didn't reply. "Your wife, your pregnant wife, has been writing you for six months, eigh _teen_ months for her, and you didn't even care." There was pure disgust in his tone but his words were only followed by Tobias's silence. Quickly, Leon took one of the letters of the coffee table, his hand shaking. Tobias didn't stop him from ripping it open.

"Dear Tobias," Leon recited, reading the letter loudly. "I hope all is doing well. Unfortunately, I am running out of paper so this may be my last letter for a while. I am in desperate need for help. I need some gillyweed to assist with my pregnancy, along with cobble flower, dried rose petals, and apple seeds. I apologize for appearing demanding, I am sure you are very busy right now. But, due to this damn month change, my baby is growing differently and I…" And then Leon threw it. He bundled it up and tossed it into the fire over Tobias's head. Tobias didn't so much as flinch.

"No wonder she fucking hates us, Tobias!" He growled. "We abandoned her. She mailed us hundreds, maybe thousands, of times and she never got a single response." Tobias didn't even move.

"What if she had gotten sick, huh? What if someone had hurt her?" Leon demanded. He took another step. "You left her there alone and gave her no reason to believe she would be back. Don't you understand what you have done-"

"Stop." Though Tobias's command was quiet, Leon immediately ceased. "Everything will be fine." Leon snarled at him. This time, Tobias looked over his shoulder.

"Fine? _Fine_? You can destroy your relationship with her all you want, Tobias, but you had no right destroying mine. I promised her that nothing bad would happen, that we would be back! After everything I had done in her name, while you-" Immediately, Tobias got to his feet. Selene saw Leon shrink back as Tobias strutted over to him. While the distance between them wasn't long, each step caused another level of anxiety to beat inside Selene's chest.

"While I what?" Tobias said, his voice low. "Are you sure you want to finish that?" Leon was silent. There was a deeper fear, Selene realized, that she had never noticed between him and Leon. Not just obedience, but pure fear.

"She's just a kid," Leon said. His voice was barely audible. "She's a fucking kid, Tobias. She needs to be protected." Tobias snorted.

"Stay away from her, Leon," Tobias said. His threat ran a shiver down her bones. "Or else you'll need protection too."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She slept in longer than she planned. The time change wasn't just affecting her emotionally – it was affecting her physically. By the time she woke up, the sun was fully shining, she saw from her bedroom window that servants were already watering the garden, and there was a light, inaudible chatter going on throughout the household. It was definitely past breakfast. But nobody had woken her up, not even the maid. A part of her didn't care, but a part of her was already stressed. She had nothing to do that day, but that didn't mean she enjoyed sleeping in throughout the entire morning.

She got up swiftly, immediately going to the bathtub and taking a quick bath. She ended up slipping on a soft pink gown and twisted her dark-blonde hair into a tight bun. She was about to put on some light perfume when she heard a knock at the door. At first, she froze. She wasn't mentally prepared to deal with Tobias just yet, and she would rather not waste her time with Leon. But maybe, hopefully, it was just a maid dropping off food and, saying as her stomach was growling, she couldn't pass it up.

But when she opened the door, a wave of disappointment flooded over her. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the opposing person.

"Yes, Rosalie?" She asked irritably. Rosalie didn't seem bothered by her tone. Instead, she went around her swiftly, entering Selene's room and sitting on her not-made bed. Selene straightened. She was about to hiss a string of threats, but then Rosalie held up a small, folded piece of paper between her fingers.

"What? Are we passing notes now?" Selene said surly. Rosalie let out a small, lifeless laugh. Her breasts, Selene noticed, weren't spilling out of her dress like they once did, and the ends of her skirt wasn't seeping up her thigh dangerously. Instead, Rosalie was wearing a normal dress. She still looked absolutely beautiful, but there was nothing seductive about her. Nothing…that gave any hint that she was the High Lord's whore. It was like the playfulness that Rosalie so dearly loved had been drained away from her, as if she didn't even have the energy to try.

"It's from Devlon," Rosalie said dryly. "He must have gotten a servant to sneak it in here and advised him to put it on your pillow. Of course, the servant put it on Tobias's bedroom because people assumed that you would fall into your husband's arms immediately. And yet, this letter says quite the opposite. Says something about running away with him instead." Selene ripped the letter away from her, looking at the scratchy writing. It was in fact Devlon's handwriting, and it had his Illyrian stamp at the top to prove its authenticity. She wanted to read it, read all of it, but her head was spinning. She folded it quickly and tucked it into her dress pocket.

"And what do you care?" Selene snarled fast. "Why didn't you just hand it Tobias? Wouldn't you want to see him murder him just to see my tears?" Rosalie looked up at her. Once again, she didn't see any anger. Just emptiness.

"I always liked Devlon," Rosalie answered tiredly. Selene's face slackened.

"How long have you even been keeping this?" Selene said with a sneer. Rosalie shrugged lazily.

"Since I got here. I found it on yo-his comforter," Rosalie muttered. Selene's eyebrows went up.

"You were in Tobias's room? Why-" And then she stopped because the answer rang in her head loudly. The answer that had once been her utmost nightmare, her greatest fear. But now, if anything, all she could do was blink at her. Was that the reason Rosalie looked so empty? So filled with sorrow? Because she had resorted to being Tobias's-

"I'm not going to apologize for trying to survive," Rosalie muttered. Selene's eyebrows rose up.

"But it didn't work, did it?" Selene finished. Rosalie shook her head.

"But then I saw this on the pillow and I…," Rosalie said. "He's a bad man, Selene." Selene's body filled with relief. Not because Tobias didn't sleep with Rosalie, but because Rosalie didn't sleep with him. Because, for once, neither of them had to play the sickening, oppressive role of pet. Neither of them played his games.

"I know," she responded, just as soft. And then, just like that, Selene found herself sitting next to Rosalie. Maybe Rosalie was playing with her, maybe she was being manipulative, but so was Selene. And she shared that broken look in her eyes, that look of vulnerability, terror, and the need for vengeance. They were more alike than they'd be willing to admit.

"I can't stomach looking at him, let alone touching him," she hissed bitterly. She crossed her arms tightly. "But Devlon is a good man…" He was. Selene didn't know what side he was on, or what that meant for Tobias, but Devlon wouldn't follow something that he didn't believe in. He believed in loyalty to his court, but he also believed in honor towards his people.

And so Selene opened it up and read it. She was quiet as she mulled over his words, taking in each word slowly, savoring each letter. She could nearly hear his voice as she read, hearing the perseverance and the warrior mentality in his words. She read it three times before she looked up again, her fingers holding onto the letter so tightly that it began to crinkle.

"He wants me to meet him tonight," Selene said aloud. "He heard what happened in the Hewn City and he heard what I…" He was marveled. He wasn't surprised, he was proud. Finally, he wrote, she was becoming the woman she was meant to be.

"There are thousands of tribes hidden in those mountains, and as you know, many of which aren't even documented on the Night Court's maps," Selene breathed. "He said he'll take me there. He'll hide me there. And he'll hide you too." It wasn't a wise decision telling Rosalie all the information he wrote her. After all, she could use it against her whenever it became convenient.

"We can-start over?" Rosalie's voice choked. Selene took in a shaky breath and nodded.

"More or less," Selene said. "He'll probably make us change our names. And we'll have to stay down low for a while, possibly years. And…" She swallowed. "I'll have to give the baby to the Illyrians. I'll have to raise him as an Illyrian warrior – since he's a boy." And he wanted to raise him. That was the cost of this all.

"He wants your child? To raise him at his camp?" Rosalie asked quietly, a hint of disgust in her voice. Selene nodded.

"It's not unusual. Illyrian children are usually taken to camps at a young age. In our culture, family is nothing. Your camp, your fellow soldiers, are your home. To them, thinking that a male baby should stay with his family rather than training would be looked down upon. Anyways, he believes that if this baby is raised under Tobias, he'll be a monster. But maybe they could raise him to be…something better. Something amazing," Selene explained. Her voice was hoarse, each word more painful than the next. But it was necessary. Because it was the only way her son could have a normal life. It was the only way they could get away from Tobias.

"What if you never see him again?" Rosalie said, her voice quiet. "I don't know much about those camps, but I do know that mothers can get separated. What if he never knows who you are?" Selene didn't respond. Instead, her eyes focused on her lap.

"I guess it's better than letting Tobias raise him," Rosalie said, as if offering some sort of positive to the situation. "Tobias would make his life hell." Selene couldn't argue that. She still hadn't found a solution to the gender issue but now she felt like she was close to finding one.

"He wants to meet us tomorrow night," Selene said to her. Her mouth was dryer than sawdust. "He said he'll take us directly to our new home." Rosalie's eyes were shining. Her traitorous, two-faced eyes.

"You'll let me go with you?" Rosalie asked. "Really? After all I've done?" Selene held her gaze for a moment, taking in the beautiful, goddess-like girl in front of her. A woman she had once been envious over, a woman who she once thought was superior over her. A woman who would do far better as Tobias's wife than she would. Who deserved nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Yes," Selene said, crumbling it the letter tighter. "It'll be an adventure we'll take together." Rosalie, unsure what to do, kissed her on the cheek. Selene was still.

"Thank you," Rosalie whispered. She inched towards the door. "Thank you so much, Selene." And as Rosalie disappeared, closing the door behind her, Selene unrumpled the note and read Devlon's words again.

 _Meet me tonight at midnight. We shall ride until we reach Illyrian mountains that we've never seen._

~*~ discidium ~*~

No guilt has filled her body as she continued the rest of the day. She couldn't pack – she knew she couldn't bring a scrap. She planned to stuff her cloak with herbs and remedies that could only be found in the estate's garden, but nothing else. Not even a backpack. So, for the rest of the day, she had nothing to do. Even though she would be leaving the estate permanently in only a matter of hours, and never setting foot in Tobias's presence ever again, her day was filled with nothingness. So she found herself wandering down to the library, eyeing the thousands of books that surrounded her. After a while, she picked up a book and relaxed into a soft, long couch. But she found herself not even reading the words – if anything, she was day dreaming about what she would do tomorrow morning when she finally out of Tobias's grasp.

Until Tobias walked in.

He was no longer in casual attire. He must have some sort of meeting, Selene deducted, because he was wearing his fine, formal uniform. There was even a crown still on his head. She was so mesmerized by the attire, at the thousands of pieces of gold that his attire probably cost, that she hadn't seen the furious look on his face. But when she did, when she saw the enlarged black eyes, the tight facial expression, the clenched jaw, she sat up quickly. Her book slipped from her hands and fell to the ground.

"Tobias, what is wro-"

" _You put her on trial_?" Tobias's voice rose. "You put Rosalie on a fucking trial?!" Selene's eyes widened.

"Who told you-"

"What in the hell happened down there? What happened to staying in the palace, like I told you?!" Tobias snapped. Selene swallowed. "Was the temptation that bad? Did you just have to put yourself in harms way?"

"If you had replied to my letters, I would have-"

"Oh, so I was supposed to be watching you the entire time, on top of ruling a vulnerable court?" Tobias sputtered. "You're pregnant, Selene! How could you risk our child's life? And what is this circle I'm hearing about?" Selene opened her mouth, but she didn't know what to say. She didn't even know where to start. And the blaze in his eyes - it was terrifying.

"Opening a healing shop for those shitholes, enabling them into going to war. What happened to the woman I loved? Where is she? She would never disobey me. She would never do such a stupid thing." Selene felt a jolt go through her.

"You don't understand," she said quietly. He let out a mirthless laugh, his arms out.

"What's fucking new?" His voice rose. "You won't talk to me, you won't touch me, you don't want me anywhere near our soon-to-be-born baby. Ever since you've walked back inside this castle, you've looked at me like I'm a brick wall. Like I'm nothing." She felt it too - the anger, the rippling anger. The fury that was building inside of her, like she could tear down this entire palace without a hesitation.

But she wouldn't. Instead, she turned on her heel.

" _Where are you going_? I'm talking to you!"

"I'm tired," Selene said dismissively.

"What do I do, Selene?" Tobias's voice cracked. His words were soft, soft as a feather. "Tell me what I need to do. Are you mad? Do you hate me? _What is it_?" She paused. When she went to a stop, she heard him let out a ragged breath. And she thought about what it was. It wasn't the cheating - no, she understood that. That was a lack of options. Was it him ignoring her letters? No, no. Deep down, she hadn't expected him to be there. Was it because…

"Eighteen months," Selene said, first quietly but then swerved around and repeated at full volume, "Eighteen months. Don't you know what that does to a person?" His face, which had once been filled with anxiety and desperation, hardened.

"I had no other options," he sneered. She shook her head at him, her face breaking.

"You expected me to sit there and wait," she said aloud. "You expected me to stop living. You forced me to carry a child for three times as long as I should have. You treated me like I'm some inconvenient pet. So I moved on." His eyes narrowed on her.

"We're married. You can't just move on," Tobias said. She took a step towards him.

"Why? You did," she said in a low voice. She could've sworn that he flinched.

"I asked for your forgiveness," he reminded her. She shook her head, a cold smile on her lips.

"Sometimes that's not good enough."

~*~ discidium ~*~

He was going to kill her. He would kill her for what she had done – he would execute her in front of his entire court. He must have been shocked by her casual departure, her sudden dismissal, because he didn't bother following her up the stairs. Instead, he gawked at her as she rushed away, racing up the twirling staircase. It was past dinner, but the moon was shining brightly and…why not? Surely, Devlon would appear early. Anyways, it was far more difficult to leave any later because the guards were more alert at night.

So she left.

She took her red cloak and tossed it around her shoulder, not forgetting the many herbs and remedies that she stuffed in her pockets. And Rosalie…she would be fine. She would survive. She would be a better later than Selene, and she would enjoy it much more. The jewels, the parties, the admiration. This world was built for Rosalie, and she deserved to rot in it. Sure, Tobias would look for her. He would send out entire legions and dogs to hunt her down. But he wouldn't find her. Not in those mountains. Not in Devlon's mountains.

She didn't say goodbye to a soul when she went out the backdoor. She had no idea where Tobias had left to, but thankfully, she didn't run into him. Rosalie hadn't seen her as well, and neither had the tens of servants that wandered the castle. It was almost too easy to leave. But when she stepped into the black forest, the same forest that she had ran into during Calanmai, she felt free. She was a different person from when she had last stepped in there. An entirely different person. A person with fear and sadness and self-doubt. But now she was a woman. A woman who was more than just a female Illyrian with wings.

And he was there. Leaning against the thickest tree that she could find, his eyes were on the moon. Just like when she was last here with Tobias, she could barely see the opposing figure against the large, hovering branches that blocked their view of the sky, with only the light from the full moon raining down on them. At first, she was quiet. She stopped a few feet from him. She hadn't realized how hard she was breathing until she made it to him. How far had she been walking? An hour, maybe two?

"You're early," he said coolly. Not _Hello_. Not _Are you okay?_

"As are you," Selene said back. This time, he let out a chuckle. He leaned off the tree, stepping towards her. As he grew closer, she took him in. Even though it wasn't half as cold as it was in the mountains, he was still wearing a large fur coat and heavy snow boots. His eyes were still filled with fierceness, an unsettling electricity that fueled him.

"I heard you were a queen," he said. He was so close that she could feel his breath. She suppressed a smile.

"I didn't have the obedience of a queen," she countered. "Tobias made sure that he took that away from me fast." His small smirk tightened.

"Bastard," he muttered. Indeed, she thought. _Bastard_.

"And what about the whore? I thought she was coming with us." She swallowed. Her eyes fell to the ground.

"She's better off being Tobias's bitch," she hissed. His eyebrows elevated but, thankfully, he didn't ask.

"Well, I missed you," he said, his fingers trailing up her. "And _him_." She looked down. He was talking about her baby, her son.

"When do we leave?" She asked, frowning now. "We're wasting time-"

"We're fine," he argued. His voice was thick. "Waiting for my second. We need his help to get out of here."

"Devlon-" And then she saw him. His second wasn't Illyrian – not by a long shot. He wore clothes that had colors she didn't recognize, with red hair with green eyes didn't match the Illyrian look. As he came closer, Devlon stepped in front of her.

"That's your second? He's not even Illyrian," Selene protested. "Devlon, what's going on?" The man stepped down. In his hand was a sheet of paper and a pen. Her eyes narrowed.

"Marry me," Devlon said. She tilted her head. "Right here – right now. Marry me." She shook her head.

"Legally, I can't. This isn't-"

"A spirit-bound marriage. The true Illyrian marriage ritual that runs deeper than any legal marriage. We'll bind each other by a blood vow. I'll raise him as my own. Nobody will know who we are. With your blood, I'll know he'll be strong. And I've loved you since I met you – since I was fourteen years old. And I'll be damned if I let that go," Devlon snarled. "And I'll be damned if I let you start over and fall in love with some common peasant. You'll be something. You'll be a healer. And I'll be a commander. And we'll be together."

"You want my – you want my baby? To raise as your own?" Her voice came out with one breath. He took her hands.

"Yes. I want him to carry my name and to call me his father and to live out his life with my people in our culture," Devlon said. "He-"

"But if I remarry, and I give birth to him under your name, he'll never be able to claim his throne once he gets older," Selene heard herself say. "I would be ripping away his…his choice." And Devlon's smile dropped.

"He'll be raised as an Illyrian anyways, Selene. He won't want the throne. If he's raised with us, he'll know that those High Fae elitists are pricks-"

"But he has Tobias's blood," she argued. "He isn't Illyrian. He's _half_ Illyrian. If I marry you, he'll have no chance at taking what he deserves." She hadn't thought this out. Not at all. "And what will happen if he's born with magic?" She sputtered quickly, just as he opened his mouth. "Are you going to…drain him of that too?" It was possible. A priestess could easily drain a baby's magic at birth. It would take away her baby's ability to do magic indefinitely. He would lose every single thing that Tobias gave him. He would lose his ability to make a choice, to make his own identity. He would be just like her and Rosalie – bound without any freedom to be who he wants.

Devlon's lips pursed.

"It's the only way in," Devlon persisted. "You have to marry me, Selene. You have-"

"I don't _have_ to do anything, Devlon. You just don't want me unless I'm yours. I'm-I'm dirty to you, aren't I? Tainted by Tobias? You don't want me if I'm still connected to him?" Selene finally understood it. He straightened.

"I'm not damaged goods anymore, Selene. I want this. I really, really want this. I think we'd be good together. And I deserve you. So, yes, I do demand something out of this. If I'm going to take you away from this place, if I'm going to risk my head, I want you," Devlon snarled. "That's the condition." She didn't even blink before she responded.

"I'm not for sale," she said. "And I'm not going to rip away my baby's right to make a choice. Even if it means giving up my freedom." Devlon stepped towards her – just an inch.

"You need me, Selene. You need me to get you out of this wretched place. No Illyrian village will take you without my word. If you can't go to the Illyrian villages, where else will you go?" Devlon asked. Her hands balled up.

"I don't know. But I'm not going to punish my baby for my mistakes," she hissed at him. "I'm not going to take away his identity, his divine right, to satisfy you. I will not let you drain him of his magic, to take a piece of who he is. I don't want you to _purify_ him just so that you can get your perfect family. I'm done listening to insecure men make decisions about _my_ body." And as she turned away, turned her back to both of them, she heard him hiss.

"Then he's dead to us. You're dead to us."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She was shivering when she walked back into the castle. A part of her was screaming to go back. She didn't know how long it took her but when she heard Devlon leave, her head started spinning. Her legs felt like jelly when she stepped foot into the estate. All of the candles were still lit and guards seemed to be littered everywhere. One rushed towards her, his mouth already open, but she lifted her hand.

"No," she said. "Let me be." She turned away from them – all of them. A part of her was gone, she thought. A part of her was dead. She felt like her heart had frozen and she had left the one person, the one being she had ever truly loved, walk away. Did she really do what was best for her child? Or was she being selfish because she was too afraid to be what Devlon always wanted her to be? From what she has learned, being a High Lord was a curse. Should her child really be burdened with that choice?

She was almost to the staircase when she heard a shatter with a high-pitched scream. Sobbing, she heard sobbing. Quickly, she ran around the corner and saw, as Tobias's office was wide open, the horrifying scene in front of her. Tobias and Rosalie were both there. Rosalie was clutching her arm and Tobias was walking towards her slowly. Lethally. Neither of them had noticed she was in view.

"Where is she?" Tobias said slowly. But then he demanded loudly, "Where the fuck did she go?!" Though Rosalie tripped back, her face didn't change.

"She went on a walk," Rosalie said louder. Her eyes were darting around quickly, as if searching for someone to save her, but nobody was in view. "I told you, she went on a walk!" His hands were clenched into tight balls as he looked at her up and down. Analyzing every piece of her, as if deciding what he should hurt first. Rosalie knew it too – her entire body was shaking as she backed against the wall.

"She was going to kill you," Tobias said, his voice but a cruel whisper. "Why are you so adamant on lying for her?" Rosalie straightened. Her hands stopped shaking as she inched towards the High Lord of Night.

"Sometimes good people do bad things. I would know," Rosalie said slowly. "Anyways, I'm not lying. _She went on a walk_." And then he hit her. She exhaled sharply as she tripped sideways, grabbing onto the nearest coffee table so jerkily that the vase skidded off and smashed into a million pieces against the wooden floor. But neither Rosalie nor Tobias gave it any attention. Tobias loomed over her as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Maybe that's not the question," Tobias taunted. Rosalie was cornered against the coffee table like a cat would corner a mouse. Her teeth were bared. "Tell me, why did she finally sacrifice you after all this time? You were always a sneaky bitch but what was it that she finally saw that made you damaged goo-"

"What do you think you're doing?" Selene was lingering in the doorway, her cloak hanging off her shoulders. Tobias looked at her and then back at Rosalie. Rosalie sunk back against the coffee table, crossing her arms tightly. Selene ran her eyes down her, making sure she was okay. She wasn't, but at least she was stable. "Rosalie, leave." Rosalie, whose eyes were now filling with tears, scurried away from Tobias and flashed Selene a thankful look as she whipped around her. Selene and Tobias were quiet until they heard Rosalie shut a door in the distance.

"Interrogating my lady in waiting?" Selene asked. Tobias's jaw clenched. "Is that really going to solve our problems?" His nose flared.  
"Where the fuck did you go?" He asked slowly. She had to refrain from flinching at his cruel tone.

"On a walk. Where else would I go?"  
"You're pregnant with my child."

"Wow, really? I couldn't tell. Fuck, I thought this bulge in my waist was just an overgrown watermelon seed-"

" _Selene_." This time, the tone of his voice sounded tired. Not angry, not murderous. Tired. Pleading. "It's an hour past midnight. I actually thought something bad happened." Her body loosened. Still, her eyes didn't soften.

"So you interrogated my lady in waiting?" She repeated. He rubbed his face tiredly.

"Yeah, after I interrogated the maid, the guards, and Leon," Tobias snarled at her. "Quite a walk, I must say. Saying as nobody on this estate has seen you in three hours." This time, she didn't know what to say. She was so close, so close to leaving, but then she saw Rosalie standing there, lying for her, and she just…

"I'm here, aren't I?" She replied surly.

"Barely," he muttered back. Her lips pursed.

"Let me remind you that you gave me that privilege, Tobias," she said. "This place is supposed to be my haven. I can walk – I can fly. That was the deal." A few seconds passed before he replied. She was tempted to walk back to her room, to walk away, but she knew that she couldn't turn back now.

"The only promise I gave you," he said, clipping each word shortly, "was that I wouldn't maim your pretty little body. I did not give you the right to walk away as you please. This place is still dangerous – _oh, don't give me that sneer_! You think you're smarter now that you blossomed in the Hewn City? Because you got to briefly sit on a fake throne in a society that makes no difference to anyone else in this shitty world? You knew power for eighteen months. I've known power for my entire life." Her eyes were burning.

"You are not a queen, Selene. You are not a healer. You are the wife of the High Lord. You are an Illyrian that got impregnated by a High Fae, and you need to remember that. Now, once you give birth, we can figure out what you want, but until then…your only duty is to stay safe. And if that means sacrificing your freedom, then you will do that." Flying was not a big deal – she hadn't flown in months because she didn't want to stress out the baby. But walking? Her teeth were jittering.

"I'm not allowed to walk now?" She asked quietly, her voice as soft as a child's. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Of course you can walk, Selene. You can walk a thousand miles. But with _me_ ," he said. "You can wake me up at three in the morning to go on a walk – I don't mind. But…" and then he got quiet. He looked around quickly and added in a hushed voice, "Don't trust anyone here, Selene. Not the maids, not the guards, not even Leon. Rosalie seems innocent enough, but I think you've realized that even her actions are…self-serving, to say the least. You eat with me three times a day, you stay on my wing of the castle, and we'll go on as many walks as you want. We'll ride horses, we'll go on trips to villages, we'll go hunting, we'll go swimming. But there are dark forces in this castle, and that didn't go away just because you…grew up." Every part of her that held life – her beating heart, the warmth under her skin, the saliva in her mouth, had disappeared.

She took a shaky step back. She was too afraid to shake her head.

"I'm back where I started," she said aloud. Everything around her was spinning. "After all this time, you still – I had forgotten, Tobias. I had forgotten about all this darkness bullshit and your trust issues. But now I remember and yet, you still won't tell me what's going on. It isn't because I'm incompetent, it's because you won't share the burden. I had sacrificed everything that I had while I was in the Hewn City, and yet…you still think that I'm not good enough." His face hardened again.

"This isn't the Hewn City. This is the most powerful court in Prythian, and the reason we are the most powerful is because we have a strict system that hasn't changed in over a thousand years. We all have our own role to play and we stick to it. Yours, as my wife, is to give birth to my daughter. Not to be my adviser," Tobias said coolly. "You are lovely, Selene. You are brilliant. And I am…looking forward to exploring how you've grown these last eighteen months. But your role as my wife was built into your veins. We were created for one another. You were created for the most powerful man on the planet. And I am nothing without you. Don't think that that's not enough." It was nothing. She wasn't just important to his system – she could create global change if Tobias gave her the power to do so. She was so much more than what he thought. And yet she was stuck in a glass box.

"Goodnight, Tobias."

"Selene, I'm not do-"

"Goodnight." She disappeared from his view once again and, thankfully, he didn't chase after her. She clung to the walls of the hallways as she rushed to her room. She felt like she was going to puke. There was no way out, and even there was, she wasn't sure if she could live with herself. The damage she would have to enact on the innocent people of the Night Court, even the damage that would be enacted onto Rosalie if Selene disappeared, was something that she couldn't live with. She didn't want anyone being in pain because of her. She didn't want anyone dying for her.

As she made it to her room, she saw a silhouette outside of her doorway. The hallway was dark, but she made out the lines of Leon. He was leaning against the hallway wall next to her bedroom door and his head was bowed. She let out a dismissive snort as she went around him.

"I think it's time we talked," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"I'll pass," she said, putting her hand on the doorknob. He whirled around. Even in the dark, she could tell that he was shocked by her immediate disinterest.

"Selene, we haven't even shared a word since you've been ba-"

"Go off to bed, Leon," she snapped coolly. She turned into her room, about to shut the door, but then his hand caught it. She swiveled around, her teeth barred as she grew closer to him, and…Leon was crying. Tears were forming in his eyes. His face was red and his hand was reaching out to her. Desperate.

And she didn't care. She no longer cared about the Night Court.

"Give me a chance," he said. His words weren't plea, nor a demand. It was a challenge. And as she looked at him, realizing the tears were not of pain but of anger, she nodded.

"Shut the door behind you," she told him. And he did so.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Though he was on the bed, she hadn't gotten near him. She was leaning against her dresser stubbornly, every inch of patience washed from her face.

"What do you want?" she asked. He chewed in the inside of his lip, pausing. As he took his time, she exhaled impatiently.

"If you're not going to answer, then-"

"It was hell." He didn't look up at her. Instead, he clinched his knees tightly and focused on the wooden floor. His voice was hoarse. "When you were gone, it was hell." _I don't care_ , she wanted to say. _I don't give a damn about your precious castle, your precious court. The whole thing could burn and it wouldn't change a thing._

"When you left, he just pretended nothing happened. That you didn't even exist. He pretended that you hadn't even walked into our lives, as if…it was all dream," Leon said, his voice choking towards the end. Selene's fingers dug into the dresser. "Nobody was allowed to speak your name. Nobody was allowed to even recognize your existence. Overnight, everything was taken away - your clothes, your books, your favorite tea set. Nothing passed those front doors if they had anything to do with you. And those letters - I would've answered you if I could, Selene. If I knew you were sending letters, I would have helped you. I would've-"

"Instead he took them and made them into a fire," Selene finished. "And now you expect me to care?" His face hardened.

"When I found out about the time difference, I tried going back to you," he whispered. "I did try, Selene. I didn't even bother asking Tobias this time - I left in the middle of the night. But the guards caught me just as I left the estate border and when he found out…" That's where the marks came from. The scars. The horrific scars that she saw peaking out of his shirt. Months old and they still looked that horrific…

And she didn't care. He knew it - he saw it on her face. And she could see a flicker of pain, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered.

"After that, Tobias casted me aside. I had guards following me secretly twenty-four seven, I couldn't leave the castle without fearing for my life, I would go weeks without seeing Tobias's face. Meanwhile, Tobias started over without me," He whispered. "Balls every night, traveling to different courts, spending full days in his office with higher officials. He replaced me with someone else as emissary. And I felt like he was coping his own way - but then I heard him laugh one night. A true, full laugh. He could laugh, be happy, while you were thousands of miles away, locked up like a prisoner. He could smile." The only reason she hadn't fallen was because she was clinging onto the dresser so tightly that her fingers sunk into the wood.

"But I kept quiet. I let him be. I thought maybe just some more time - more time and he would realize that you needed him and then he would bring you back. It had been months but I still…I knew he had to still love you," he breathed, putting his head in his hands. Selene swallowed.

"And then he brought Clythia into the castle. Into our _home_." She fell into the chair next to her. "She slept with him, he ate breakfast with her, they went out together. And I fought for you - I fought for you again, Selene. I bursted out at him in the middle of a feast, roaring at the top of my lungs that you deserved justice. Except when I spoke your name…he said he had no idea who I was talking about. That he had never even heard your name before. Clythia laughed at me. And for the first time, I wondered if you were just someone I made up in my head. That you were imaginary." He was sobbing now. Though she couldn't see the tears falling down his face, his body trembled as he choked.

"I had to get out," he said. "So I did." She was quiet. For a second, she wasn't even entirely sure she was breathing. But then he put his hand in his pocket, and opened his hand.

In his palm was a silver token.

"I heard you went to them too," Leon said softly.

~*~ discidium ~*~  
reviews pls. Like seriously. Reviews. Me = bad time in my life. Pity me. Give me a review.


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